


When The Lines Get Blurry

by orphan_account



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Falling In Love, Hurt/Comfort, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con References, Sexual Content, Sexual Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-04-26
Packaged: 2017-11-27 01:23:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 19
Words: 32,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/656478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kink meme prompt:</p><p>Shepard captured on Mindoir and turned into a slave.<br/>Garrus rescues her much later<br/>She thanks him by offering her services as a sex slave<br/>Angst and stuff</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The ship smelled of dirt and sweat but it didn't bother her (good slaves do not complain) because she could see the stars above. She'd spent three days by this window watching them pass. When she woke this morning, however, the window was shut and she understood what that meant: the buyers would begin arriving soon.

She hated being sold. She hated the feeling of being looked at and probed by so many eyes and she hated the helplessness of the situation (good slaves understand they own nothing, neither mind nor body, they belong to the masters). The men whose hands she passed through were never a problem, she learned thier kinks quickly, it mainly revolved around knowing how much pain they wanted her in (a good slave does not scream, unless her master wishes). She wished someone would keep her, someone kind. (good slaves have no opinions, for they are nothing but things of the masters pleasure). 

When the batarian guards came for her, she was ready. They kept the slaves meant for manual labor in a different hold crammed shoulder to shoulder and shackled instead of caged. Only a hand full of pleasure slaves occupied the upper cargo hold, all dressed in the traditional red robes. They were treated more carefully; pleasure slaves were highly trained and very expensive, even old or scarred up. She dropped to her knees as a batarian guard approached her cage, careful not to look at him directly. There was a rattle as her cage lock was undone. She shifted awaiting instuctions, tilting her head downwards and to the left. Next to her, she could see the other slaves watching with interest. 

Most of them were as much damaged goods as she was. She had been through a dozen owners, each leaving her with a new scar before selling her in exchange for someone else. She had seen similer marks on the other slaves, but she was by far the worst case. She was getting older, getting passed from cruel master to crueler. How much longer before she no longer fetched a price. This was something that should concern her, but she felt nothing.

The merc jerked his head, beckoning her her to come out. She complied. Buyers would be brought in in small groups by appointment. No one wanted too much attention on the ship. 

She lowered her eyes and bowed her head. The guard ran a hand along her hips before taking her arm.

"You going to behave," he asked.

She responded traditionally, "she will do as the masters will." 

She started to follow the merc when the leader of the operation, A nasty batarian named Batem, held up a hand. 

"They'll see her in here. Hopefully one of them will take her." 

She knelt before the two men and took the posture of obedience and Batem grunted approvingly, "she's submissive enough." He dismissed her guard as the guests arrived.

The private buyers turned out to be two turians and a krogan. She studied them from beneath her lashes. The turian with blue markings was giving her an appraising look, but he seemed uncomfortable. His friend had bright red markings and seemed more at ease. The krogan was one of the young ones, she hoped he didn't buy her, those were always the worst (good slaves have no preferences, they do as thier master wills).

The batarian glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, "present yourself." 

She untied her robe and dropped it as she stood. The silk pooled around her ankles. Blue gaped. The krogan smiled. 

She had had one krogan owner and her experience had been that they were sadistic bastards. He had been the first since her training to make her scream. It had taken her days to realize she hadn't done anything wrong, he just got off on it (good slaves accept what thier masters give, even when they give pain). When he had resold her she was in bad enough shape that she hadn't had a kind master since, they liked flawless skin, not cross crossing scar tissue. It was right for a certain clientele though- the kind that wanted to know she could withstand a beating.

"What the hell happened to her?" Blue asked. He traced the lines on her stomach with his eyes. A former turian owner, the latest hands she had passed through, had given them to her before selling her to these mercs. The Krogan paced around her and found the whip marks from another owner, a human with a penchant for causing pain. He ran a finger down one. She focused on breathing and keeping still. 

She wanted to run away.  
She wated to disappear.

Batem looked at her again and she forced her eyes back down to the floor.

"answer him." 

She kept her head down, focused on a stain on the floor, "she does as the master pleases. Marking her pleased him." Blue looked confused.

"All of them talk like that," red explained. "They take thier names away." 

The batarian grunted, "we teach them to think of themselves as things. Makes it easier for them."

Blue seemed to pale, it was interesting, she hadn't known turians could pale. Red smirked, "getting squeamish?" 

"No, just never heard of that." He was defensive.

The red marked turian reached out and touched the side of her ribs. Tracing them down to her waist. She spoke to him with her eyes, it wasn't my fault they beat me. I was good. He glanced at her with contempt and she lowered her eyes again. Please take me away from the krogan.

The Krogan was currently fishing around between her legs. He inserted a thick finger into her. She gave no indication of her discomfort except a shallow breath as she adjusted to it. He pulled it out and grunted.

"You break it, you buy it," the batarian warned. 

"Awfully marked up," red commented as he paced around her. He weighed one of her breasts in his hand, "nice chest though, and a pretty face." 

"I told you she was used goods. You want new condition, you pay the new price."

"What about security? Will she run away?" Blue spoke this time. 

The batarian laughed, "maybe if you got a half trained one, this one was broken long ago, part of the function of the implant is to erase memories of her past," he glanced at her, "would you like to run away, slave?"

The question was absurd. Long ago, on the farthest fringes of her memory she had tried to run away from a master. She shivered at the memory, "she has no where to go. Nothing to do. The masters provide for her. She humbly accepts thier benevolence." She had been taught this chant long ago. Her new catchism. 

"What were you before you had masters?" The batarian prompted.

"She doesn't remember, she is content in her place." It was true. She couldn't remember a life before they had taken her. At one point that had distressed her. Now she felt nothing (a good slave is nothing).

Batem nodded, satisfied, before continuing, "the other function of the implant is to act as a tool for punishment. He picked up her rod on the top of the cage, "some people think we use mind control but it really just stimulates the part of her brain that makes her feel pain. Normally we teach them to be silent, no matter what, but this will make her scream."

She watched the rod warily as he passed a finger over the button on top. Her mucles tensed as he played with it. Batem smiled at her, relishing her fear, and pushed it. Her muscles spasmed at the small trickle of pain. It always started small. It always got worse. The pain spread into her arms and she shuddered, gritted her teeth as it went to her legs. Her skin started to burn and her hands tightened into fists. 

"High pain tolerence," The Krogan questioned.

The batarian nodded, "not bad, at least." 

She shut her eyes, she didn't want to watch the gaping faces of the turians or see the krogans smile. Her knees trembled and then gave out. She collapsed to the floor with a groan of pain that trailed off into a series of whimpers. Her skin was on fire. She was burning up. She could feel the flames. Couldn't think, couldn't breathe, couldn't move. Her world reduced to the single goal of making the pain stop. She screamed finally, babbling incomprehensible words, begging them to stop it. 

She was good she was good. 

It wasn't until the pain faded that she found she was curled on the floor in the fetal position as her screams faded to whimpers.

"I'll take her " the krogan grunted.

A feeling of dread blossomed in her chest. She wished the blue turian had bought her. He seemed kind, but she knew what he was. He didn't understand the natural order. There had to be slaves and masters. it was the way of things. He came with a friend to gawk, but he would never buy. 

The batarian shrugged, "let's talk credits." He walked the krogan over to another corner and called over his shoulder to the two other buyers, "we have others you can look at." 

She pushed herself up into a kneeling position, examining the floor. Blue crouched beside her.

Red was talking to something not her, not his friend. Two fingers rested on the side of his head and she heard him mutter, "alpha team ready. On your mark."

Blue spoke even lower, "We're going to get you out of here." 

She lifted her head for a millisecond, looked straight into his eyes. The idea of leaving baffled her. Did he plan to steal her? She realized what she was doing and cringed away. Maybe he wouldn't tell.

She pulled the robe back over her shoulders and tied the shash. "Do you understand?" The turian asked. She shook her head, "she is to serve. It is the natural order." 

The krogan walked over jerked his head towards the door, "let's go." 

Meekly, she bowed her head and followed him to the stairs leading to shuttle bay. She turned her head a moment and glanced at the turian looking after her. She wished he had bought her (slaves have no desires, no will but that of their masters.) 

As she climbed into the back of the krogans shuttle and the door slammed shut all hell broke loose. She turned in her seat as the engine started.

As she watched the two turians pull out hidden weapons, as the bay flooded with c-sec officers and she watched she felt like she should feel something. Anger, hope, desperation, something. She felt numb instead. It was better that way. She simply situated her eyes to the front and put her hands in her lap. 

Behind her, the turian with blue markings chased them to the edge of the bay, futily attempting to shoot them down. She glanced back one more time at him. He didn't understand. He would be more peaceful if he understood.

Long ago, before she learned to be good, she tried to fight her masters and ran away. She didn't understand why she had anymore. She had thought they had stolen something from her. She had thought they had been cruel to her. She hadn't learned yet hat she owned nothing to be stolen, or that the masters will was right even when it hurt her. She had been a foolish, erring child then, when she had taken flight in the dark of night. 

She had known how to fly a shuttle. Someone had taught her. Then, she might have been able to tell who or why. Now, she doesn't even remember how the controls work. 

It had flopped miserably. The alarms had gone off the moment she started the shuttle and the ship she was on had locked down. She had hidden in the bay, hoping they just vented it, sent her into the vacuum of space. Better then torture, and the fucking, and the humiliation. She hadn't understood how the world worked.

When her owner had found her she had dragged her by the scruff of the neck into her room. She had used the shock stick on her for hours. Wave after wave of pain from blow after blow as raw electricity had coursed through her muscles, as she screamed and screamed. Then she had used her rod, sending more crippling pain through her.

Finally the mistress, a ruthless asari matriarch, had held her down and melded with her over and over to make sure she understood. Every corner of her mind had been scoured for rebellion and cleansed. Her secrets had been brought into the light and mocked. She had been helped to understand her foolishness. She owned nothing. Not her body, not her mind. 

The asari mistress had been right. The realization had eliminated her pain. Made her a good slave.

She had made her see. She had made her understand. She had been right. 

Nothing changes, ever. 

She was a slave, she had always been a slave, she would always be a slave.

When they arrived in the run down apartment and the krogan pushed her to the ground, tore her robe away and reminded her how much krogan cocks could hurt, she gritted her teeth behind a seductive smile and repeated what she knew in her mind.

She was as she would always be.

Nothing changes. 

Her life fell into the new pattern effortlessly. A good slave, like water, flows and conforms to it's boundaries. 

She knew and understood all of this, so why did she find herself looking over the buildings in the distance and wondering what was beyond the narrow confines of her home? And why did she find herself picturing a turian's bright blue eyes and wishing she could see him again?

She submitted to the harsh treatment of her new master meekly. He must know of her foolish thoughts. She deserved to be treated this way. It would make her better.


	2. Chapter 2

"That girl really got under your skin." 

Garrus focused on the patrol route and ignored his partner, Delanus.

Beyond managing to allow the krogan and one woman to escape the bust had been a success. Fifty seven men and women altogether had been sent to a rehab center on Mindoir. Still, that one woman, and her empty hopeless eyes had remined in his mind. He had been furious about allowing them to escape in the first place. Palin had been screaming to hold position and by the time back up had burst in the Krogan had left the hanger and was en route to the lower wards of the citadel. With millions of inhabitants finding anyone was going to be a difficult. A week later and he was still hard up on leads.

Delanus tried agan, "look, we did good. We made one of the biggest slave busts in citadel history and even managed to finish the damn paperwork involved." 

"But we didn't save her," Garrus sighed. It was difficult to forget that much paperwork. He was pretty sure that Palin had devised it as a punishment for their falling out. He had stormed into Palin's office as soon as he had arrived back and they had screamed at each other for a solid hour.

"Look, take it from somebody who's been in this business a while: you can't save everyone. We did damn good, leave it at that." 

Garrus shook his head, "don't think I can do that."

It was true that the bust had been a lot of hard work. They had spent the first month cajoling, bribing, and threatening contacts to find out when a shipment would be coming through and another three months working their way into being able to actually board the ship.

"You won't make it in this career if you don't find a way to let your failures go," Delanus insisted, "besides, we might still find her." 

Garrus landed the hovercar but didn't get out. The Gaina wards were a notoriously rough neightborhood, but Garrus had always preferred the more difficult routes. That was how he had met Delanus in the first place. He had arrived at c-sec fresh from the turian military. 

Delanus had taken the young hot head under his wing in hopes ofdrilling sme sense to him. It seemed that they had, instead, runbed off on each other, with Delanus adopting some of Garrus' optimism and passion and Garrus benefitting from the older turians weight of experience. Hell, if it hadn't been for him he would have been called as a fraud the second he stepped on the slaver ship. Delanus had been able to play the cool and collected buyer, while explaining Garrus' hesistence as inexperience. They made a good team, but sometimes Garrus couldn't stand the other man, like now.

"How old do you think she was when they got her? She looked so young." 

Delanus sighed, "there's no way we can know that."

"I know. I just- she looked so hopeless." 

Delanus put a hand on his young colleague's shoulder, "instead of thinking about that you could think about all of the ones who have hope now." 

Garrus only sighed, "I'd rather not talk about it anymore. Let's just go."

Their regular strolls through the Gaina district ended, more often then not, with weapons drawn and at least one person better off for their interference. Garrus had been requesting this route all week though and Delanus simply wasn't as young as he used to be. He worried about his protegee's impulsivity sometimes. 

"You sure you're up for this today," the older turian asked.

Garrus nodded, "she's close. I can feel her when we're put here. Just a matter of time Delanus. We'll find her."

Delanus only sighed. As they both focused in on their surroundings silence Delanus wondered how long it would take Garrus to get over what he had percueved as a failure. It was amazing how he had taken a situation that anyone else wpuld intepret as getting bery lucky and beating the odds and turn it into a virtual failure in his mind. He hoped he'd get over it soon. 

He glanced down an alleyway and froze, "well I'll be damned."

Shaking out the laundry and draping them over the metal railing of the fire escape was a very familiar face. Garrus followed his gaze and grinned, "told you." 

They crept down the alley watching her. She was focused on her own task and working quickly. The last time she had old scars but nothing recent. Now she had a half healed cut running from shoulder to elbow. One eye was black, and from the way she held herself at one of her ribs was broken. Periodically she would look over her shoulder into the apartment. They hit the area under her perch and they could hear a rough voice from inside and krogan curse. The girl darted back inside.

Garrus hummed thoughtfully, "think we have enough cause to bust that place up?" 

Delanus shrugged, "think I'm willing to risk it either way." 

"You know Delanus," Garrus grinned, "sometimes you aren't such an old stick in the mud."

"Your affection is heartening."

"So how do we do this?"

Delanus surveyed the fire escape, "we'll go up and theough the back." 

Garrus jumped and gripped the bottom rung of the ladder. When they reached the top of the fire escape they peered in. The aprtment was a shithole. Trash littered the floor and it stanck. The girl was there, though. The krogan had pushed her against the wall by the throat and she was making a pitiful choking noise as she struggled for breath. 

Garrus pulled his side arm. In some perverse way he was thankful for the girl. He doubted they could have made it up the fire escapes cracking metal platforms without the Krogan being distracted by her. He released her and she sank to her knees drawing breath desperately into her lungs as she reached for the top of the krogans pants. 

That was the moment Delanus charged through the open door into the apartment. The Krogan shouted with surprise and pulled the girl up onto her feet in front of him, an arm looping around her throat, and his other hand pressing a the point of a knife from his belt into her belly. She didn't struggle, just looked at the officer placidly. Garrus wondered, briefly if she wouldn't welcome death.

"Put the girl down," he ordered, training his gun at the krogans head. 

The krogan must have put pressure on the knife, because the girl suddenly cringed, shutting her eyes. When she opened them, again, for the first time since he had seen her, she looked afraid. 

Garrus steadied his breathing and aimed carefully through the window. Delanus moved forward, keeping the Krogan focused on him. If he could remain undetected, Garrus had a good chance of bringing the Krogan down. 

The shot resounded through the room. The krogan stumbled backwards with a cry of pain, as he cast the girl aside. Delanus advanced, his own weapon ready. The krogan charged forward with a cry of rage. Then two officers jumped out of the way so the Krogan stumbled past them and open fired.

When it was finally over and the krogan was no longer moving, Delanus bent over breathing deeply. "Damn close," he commented, "I'm getting too old." 

Garrus laughed and slapped him on the back, "nothing quite like an angry krogan to get the blood pumping in the morning."

There was a moan of pain from the corner and Garrus glanced up, his eyes fixing on the girl. She was holding her side, blood pooling between her fingers. "Shit." The krogan's knife must have slipped when he was shot. 

Garrus crouched, trying not to intimidate her. He moved towards her and she pulled her knees to her chest. 

"You're hurt. I can help you," Garrus continued, edging closer. She flinched, preparing to be struck. He brushed his hand along her shoulder, trying to reassure her of his intentions. "I won't hurt you, just let me see." 

She moved her hand, her face crumpled in pain. Blood dripped down her torso in rivulets and she moaned. 

"It's ok," He continued coaxing. The wound wasn't deep. He approximated a human smile, "you're going to be ok." He glanced over his shoulder, "Delanus, toss me some medigel."

Medigel in hand he turned back to the girl, "alright, this might sting for a sec." 

The muscles of her abdomen were tense beneath his hand. She was skinnny, far too skinny. He could count her ribs. Garrus glanced at the scars on her stomach and wanted to kick himself. Those were turian claw marks. What must she have thought about a strange turian approaching her. No wonder she was terrified. "I won't hurt you." He said again. Her breathing was fast and her face pale, partly, he was sure. From blood loss, but the look in her eyes was pure terror. 

Garrus administered the medigel as quickly as possible. She didn't react to the sting, just watched the cut adhere closed. "See," he said, "just a flesh wound." She still was silent. He realized with a jolt that she was naked. Her torso was sploched with bruises like purple roses. She reached out tentatively for the robe beside her and then moved her hand away, her eyes flitting to him, asking permission. 

"Shit," he said, "sorry, yeah, get dressed." She pulled the robe on, grimacing at the movement. He realized it was exactly what she had been dressed in a week ago. the son of a bitch hadn't even given her clothes. 

The woman looked behind him, catching sight of the dead krogan. The expression on her face something between, relief, confusion and fear.

He got to his feet and extended a hand to her. She looked at it in confusion for a moment and then stood, bracing herself against the wall. "What's your name?" Garrus asked softly.

"Slaves don't have names." The answer was quick, drilled to perfection. 

"You aren't one anymore then."

The woman's brow furrowed, "she does not understand." 

Delanus sighed and shook his head, "they did a number on her." He tilted his head towards the window, "but we should probably get her out of here. Maybe to a hospital? She looks like shit." 

Garrus nodded, "yeah, that's probably the best idea. You ready?" 

The woman swallowed, looked at the krogan on the floor one more time. "She will do as the masters will." 

Delanus shook his head, "Well that isn't an extraordinarily creepy way of talking."


	3. Chapter 3

"Let me see your arm, hon."

She held her right arm out. It was made clear that her left arm was hurt and not to be moved. She was compliant. 

The nurse fingers one of her brand marks, "batarian?" She asks. This human nurse seemed to like her. She wondered if the nurse was a slave. 

She did not answer. She didn't understand anything that had happened today. The turians had come and killed the krogan and taken her here. He must be her new master. He had healed her wounds. She couldn't remember the last time anyone had been so gentle to her. 

They kept asking for a name. They wouldn't understand. Eventually the turian with the red marking had left to see if he could find out who she was. She had told them over and over that she was a slave, and that slaves didn't have names, but no one would listen to her. 

She watched the doctors work from underneath her lashes. Over the past few hours she had been scrubbed and stitched up. They had spent a long time examining her vaginal area, probing and swabbing before giving her a round of antibiotics that had burned as they injected them. To be safe, they had told her. Then they had given her something that made her ribs stop hurting, but made her head feel strange and fuzzy.

She could hear the doctors talking to each other. They thought because she was quiet she couldn't understand, but she was a good listener. One doctor had declared her severly under nourished, another told his friend that she looked as if someone had been using her as a punching bag for years. Neither was far off. 

The nurse spoke again, breaking the silence of the exam room. "Bet you must be a pretty brave girl to live through all of this. What are you going to do now?" The nurse waited a moment before continuing, "if I were you, I'd get some ice cream. Some chocolate ice cream, am I right?" The nurse waited again and then continued speaking. It all blurred together into a pleasant drone. 

They wanted her to say so much and she didn't have the words. Once, before she had been taught better, she spoke too much. She knew better now, she was good. She wanted the turian to keep being kind so she did what the doctors said. She wasn't sure she would survive long of the turian decided to punish her.

"Her cranial implant needs to come out," a salarian doctor said glancing at his charts as he walked in. 

The nurse gave a disaproving cluck, "she's right here, doctor. Tell her that." 

She looked up, eyes wide, fully expecting the doctor to slap the woman. Good slaves don't speak unless they are asked a direct question. Both doctor and nurse looked at her in surprise. The nurse chuckles, "never you mind that old coot," she pointed at the doctor, "he needs a little sass to keep him being nice." 

She decided that she was mistaken. The salarian must be the woman's slave. That's why she can speak so audaciously and the salarian only glared. He shouldn't glare. It was disrespectful.

The salarian continued, this time directing his speech towards her. "We want to remove your cranial implant." He waved a hand, "may we see?" 

She didn't move. She didn't understand. The salarian grunted, "I don't think she understands." 

He reached for her and she swatted at him. Slaves didn't touch each other. She loooked at the nurse, expecting her to do something about this. She was holding a hand over her mouth and making a choking noise behind her hand. 

When she had composed herself, the nurse reached out and took her hand, "honey, just bend your head forward. No one's going to hurt you." She bent her head foreward, but couldn't control a flinch as the nurse paced behind her. She didn't like being unable to see. 

The nurse ran a finger up her neck, to the base of her skull, "found it. Looks like they stitched it closed, but not very well. Nasty scar."

The doctor walked around the table and joined her. She watched him from the corner of her eye until he went out of her line of vision. "Doubtless she struggled. batarian slavers rarely use anesthetic," he paused, "I'll need to sedate her to get it out." 

The nurse nodded, "I'll get it ready."

She didn't understand what they were planning to do until the nurse reappeared with the mask. She stiffened, her breath quickening. The nurse noticed her fear, "don't worry hon, it'll be over quick." 

They were going to hurt her. Put the mask on her and make her weak so she wouldn't struggle. She didn't struggle anymore, she would comply. They didn't need to make her sleepy to hurt her. She backed up onto the table, "She didn't do anything wrong," she whimpered, "please, she'll be good. She won't fight." She didn't want to wake up dirty and sore and not know what happened. She hadn't done anything, she was being good, and they were going to put the mask on her and hurt her. 

The events of the past few hours hit her with a sudden wash of emotion. It wasn't that she hadn't been punished without cause before, that had happened often, but fear of these strange people, and noises, and situations combined and amplified the feeling of injustice. Maybe the turian was going to kill her. He had killed the krogan. She backed up further and lost her balance on the side of the exam table. A hand reached towards her and she smacked it. They were going to hurt her now. She wasn't being good anymore. Hands kept reaching for her and she huddled back into the wall, begging them to leave her alone. 

Over her voice she heard the nurse comment, "-not so bad, seems she has some fight left in her." 

The door swished open, more people walked through. A voice thundered, "what the hell is going on?" 

"She just started panicking." 

"Did you bother to get consent?" 

"Preliminary guess: she didn't give it." That dry voice she recognized as the turian. She cringed in fear. A woman sighed heavily, before speaking,

"Calm down and Get up." 

The last phrase was directed at her. She recognized the tone, it reached the depths of her training. Disobeying wasn't an option. She drew a shuddery breath as she gained her footing and glanced around the room. An asari was standing back a ways, observing her. She must have issued the order be ause she spoke again in the same tone.

"Sit down." 

She sat on the edge of the exam table, her eyes darting from person to person. The asari approached. She bowed her head submissively, even as her shoulders hunched. She resigned herself, whatever they were going to do to her, she couldn't stop it. Fighting had never and would never help. Her punishment would surely be worse because of her outburst. She cringed in anticipation, but the asari didn't touch her.

"I need you to relax, we just want to talk to you." The asari's voice was firm, but not unkind. She glanced between her and the turian. The asari continued after a moment. "You're master is dead. We need to figure out what you're going to do now." 

She frowned and looked at the turian, "new master." She said. It only made sense. If he killed the krogan, that meant he owned what the krogan had. She would pass to him.

His expression changed to horror, "no," he said holding up both hands.

She looked between the two of them again, "who's going to take care of her?"

The asari smiled, "that's exactly what we want to decide. Do you know that slavery is illegal here in citadel space?"

In a vague sort of way she uderstood, she knew that was why her masters kept her in their homes. Why, since leaving the hegemony, she was never sent on errands. But her identity was as a slave. She didn't know any other life. 

"Yes." 

"Okay, good. That means you don't have a master anymore." The asari tilted her head, "do you remember anything before the batarians? For example, what your name was?" 

She chewed the side of her mouth, thinking. There were memories, but they hurt. "She-"

"No," the asari said, "no more slave dialect." 

The batarians had taught her to speak properly. She licked her lips nervously, "sh-Don't." She stopped and buried her head in her hands, "hurts." 

"I know, but we need you to try. The cranial implant makes it difficult, but it can't erase your memories, just suppress them." 

She shut her eyes and focused. A dull ache started in her temples. A memory touched the corner of her mind, fragile as a butterfly. No more then a whispered word she could hardly remember. Pain trickled from her skull down her spine and she shuddered. 

[i]  
She lies at the foot of the bed, naked and bleeding and trying so hard to remain unbroken. Curling into a ball she whispers into the crook of her elbow, "my name is Annika." She tries desperately to remember the rest of her name but it won't come. She forgets a little bit more every day. Soon she will have nothing left, she can feel even this slipping. A tear falls down her face and hits the floor. "My name is Annika," she whispers again.   
[/i]

The world came back into focus. "Annika," she gasped. Her head hurt, and she wasn't supporting herself. Garrus had rushed to her side and was holding her shoulder so she didn't fall. She massaged her temples. 

The asari smiled, "Annika, that's a beautiful name. It's nice to meet you Annika, I'm Lela." She held out a hand ignoring the other woman's flinch backwards. When no hand shaking occurred she put her hand down and smiled. 

"Who's going to take care of her," she asked again. The masters may hit her and hurt her, give her the buzz, and the burn, but they also fed her. She knew only one way of survival. 

"Who is gping to take care of [i]Me[/i]," Lela corrected doggedly. "We need to talk about that. Normally, men and women like you go to a facility on Mindoir. We can't send you though, they don't have room. There's a battered women shelter, but they expect the women they shelter to be somewhat independent. Maybe in the future we can consider that option, but I'm not sure that's what will work today either." 

The turian fidgeted with his tunic. She folded her hands tightly. No home, no master, she would die. When she was still a slave in the hegemony, she saw men and women dying in the alley ways of starvation. Her master had told her, those were bad slaves, disobedient slaves. She had been good. The asari sensed her panic, "calm down. No one is going to let anything bad happen to you." When she felt that her client's emotions were reigned in she continued.

"Do you remember Officer Vakarian?" 

"Garrus," the turian interjects quickly, "just Garrus." 

She nodded, "he killed the krogan." 

"Exactly. He's offered to allow you to stay with him. You're an adult, and mentally sound enough to make that decision. But it must be your decision. Do you want to stay with Garrus, or should I look for something else."

She was silent. Slaves do not choose like this. The woman said she wasn't a slave, but she didn't understand. She didn't understand that some people were just slaves. It was the natural order. How things worked. Birds don't get to change to fish. Slaves don't get to change either. 

"Annika, you need to decide." 

Annika nodded slowly, "yes. sh-", the asari frowned and she flinched backwards, unconvinced that the woman wouldn't give her the buzz. What else could she say? "I," the word is foreign and tastes bad in her mouth, "will stay with," she didn't know what to call him. Her gut said to call him master, but the asari kept correcting her. "Garrus," She said finally.

The asari smiled, "perfect." 

They brought forms for her to sign, but she couldn't. The asari tried to place her hand on top, so she could sign her name. Annika, moved away hastily. Asari were sneaky. they proved they owned you, by joining when you didn't expect it. Eventually Lela just took a recording of her verbal assent. 

"They want to take out your cranial implant," Lela explained on one form. "They need you to be asleep when they take it out." 

Annika hesitated. They wanted to gas her. She looked at the surgical equipment already wheeled into the room. "Awake when they put it in." She avoided using the personal pronoun, it felt wrong on her tongue. She remembered the more painful things, even long ago things, and the implant had been among the worst. 

They had pulled her head forward by her hair. Another gripped her body between his knees, her arms bound in front. She can't move and when the knife pressed against her skin she couldn't breathe. There had been so much paina nd she had screamed and screamed when the blood dripped down her neck and puddled beneath her. 

"I know, but it won't hurt when they take it out, if you let them put you to sleep. If you let them take it out, most people report gaining some of their memories back. I can't promise you anything, but you might remember more then just your name." 

Annika nodded and gave her assent. She didn't want them to gas her, didn't care if her memories came back, but the asari was doggedly persistant and she was too afraid to fight. The asari opened the door, and, after a moment, the doctor and nurse re-entered the small room. The nurse smiled at her. Annika grimaced and cast her eyes around the room focusing on the turian. He looked up at her gaze, startled. He protected her once, from the krogan. "Stay?" She pleaded. 

He nodded slowly, "I'll be right here when you wake up."

She refused to lie back until he stood beside her. The nurse placed the gas mask over her face. As the world faded into black she focused on the turians eyes. They were so blue.

Blue was a nice color, a pretty color.


	4. Chapter 4

The surgery hadn't failed, but the doctor hadn't been hopeful about how much she might regain of her memories. She must have been stolen a long time ago, the chip hadn't been easy to remove. 

Garrus remembered the way she had writhed on the ground screaming in anguish when it had been activated. At least no one would be able to do that again. She would never go through it again.

The nurse who seemed to have taken a shine to Annika had been the one to uncover what her panic attack had been all about. A small, but ugly scar had been found on her abdomen. It appeared she had been forcibly sterilized, probably around the time of her capture. No doubt, it had been a terrifying and painful procedure. 

Lela had spent their time in the waiting room peppering him with last minute advice. He probably should have written it down or recorded it or something. She hadn't been thrilled about the state of affairs, but was resigned to it. "Citadel law says she counts as a consenting adult so, it's legal, but it feels ethically...questionable." 

Garrus rubbed his forehead, "yeah, but what choice do we have." 

"None, but," Lela shook her head, "if the world were fair she'd be headed for a long stay with a good psychologist. But no one has room for her, or else no one wants to deal with her."

"Why not?" 

"She's what, maybe twenty three, twenty four on the outside, well, according to the doctors the damage to her body says it's been way more then five years since she was enslaved, maybe as many as ten." Lela stood and walked to the window, "beyond the five year mark complete rehabilitation is rare, especially captured as young as she had to have been. If a facility takes her on they could be looking at having a life long patient." 

"I see." He stood beside Lela and glanced down at the presidum, the view was breathtaking, but the c-sec cop in him could see the webs of corruption even in all that beauty. 

"Don't worry," Lela reassured him, "I'll find someplace if you can buy me time. In the interim, I'm a phone call away." 

They had gone on a brief shopping excursion to buy the girl some clothes. In his mind's eye he could still see her reaching for that filthy robe in the krogan's apartment. Lela had helped him shop for levo food. By the time they had gotten back they were rousing her and before he could really figure out what had happened he was left in the car with another human being, one he was responsible for.

Garrus pushed the recliner back and watched his...what? Guest? Roommate? Ward? He still wasn't sure what to call her. She had woken up groggy from the anesthetic and fallen back to sleep almost as soon as he helped her to the couch. She was smaller then he had prginally thought, and she looked even bonier now. The angle at which her body was curled had cause her shirt to ride up her back and he realized that he could count her vertebrate. Now that he thought about it, her ribs had been much too visible as well. Scars and branding marks dotted her right arm. He tried not to think about her lifting it to block the trajectory of a whip, or being held into place for the brands. Her other arm was wrapped firmly in bandages along with her neck, they would need to be changed in a few hours. Even from where he sat, he could see black bruises on her neck, and knew there were matching marks on her ribs. He felt a pang of guilt for each injury. He should have been faster.

He had no doubt that by human standards she was pretty, even with all of her scars, but curled into a ball and covering her head with one arm she looked more like a broken doll. He knew that he wasn't a permanant resting place for her, just a brief shelter, but he had the desire to fix her. Surely, somewhere beneath all the damage, there had to be something salvagable. 

Things couldn't be as hopeles and Lela had alluded. She was alive, after all. Most humans captured so young would have died faced with such steady abuse. If she was alive, then she could recover. She already beat the odds, now she just had to do it again.

His omni-tool beeped and he silenced it hastily. It was Delanus. Still no luck finding an Annika in the missing persons database. Maybe, if she could remember a last name, a home world, a parent, something, they could find her. Maybe she had family. It was unlikely, if she had been enslaved her family was likely dead or had suffered the same fate, but it was a possibility. He thought about how good it would be to see her reunited with people who loved her. 

A small sound distracted him from his thoughts. Annika was awake. She was looking over her arm at the television, which had, at some point, switched to showing a blasto movie. It took him a moment to realize that the sound she had made was amusement. He smiled at her, "you're awake." 

Her expression vanished as she studied him. He hadn't noticed before how green her eyes were, it contrasted with her red hair well. Her eyes widened suddenly and she started to move, then gripped her ribs and clenched her teeth. Garrus held out his hands, palms face down, "hey, you don't have to move. Just, relax." 

Annika touched the back of her neck and brushed her bandage gingerly. 

"Are you hungry? If you eat, I can give you something for the pain." 

She nodded, her eyes still watching him. He prepared a bowl of soup according to Lela's instructions wondering what he could do to show her he didn't intend to harm her. Garrus held out the bowl. She accepted the bowl without a word.

She must have been starving, but she ate slowly, savoring the food. It was the way someone who was used to not eating ate. Making every to last as long as possible and eating the chunks of meat first. Garrus let her have her space again until she was finished. 

"I need to look at your neck, the bandages need changed." 

He approached her again. She thrust her head back and to the side, baring her jugular. It was a turian gesture representing both surrender and a plea for mercy. He felt nausous. "I won't hurt you," how many times would he have to say that? Did she really view him as no different from the krogan or any of her other owners? 

How many of the events of the past few hours had she really understood? It would have been horrifying to have so many doctors working on her and not know why. She complied with his requests, turning and bending her neck so he could see the wound, but she was tense. Her muscles quivered beneath his fingers.

He talked to her as he worked at the bandage. "Look, I know this has got to be scary for you, but you need to understand: no one is going to hurt you. You aren't a slave anymore." He peeled the old gauze away and replaced it, "the only thinkg you need to do right now is eat, and gain weight, and get healthy." He replaced the bandage, "do you understand?" 

There was a long pause where she didn't respond. He sighed and touched the unbandaged side of her neck, resting his hand against it. It was possible that it was his imagaination, but it seemed as if she leaned into the touch slightly. He rubbed a thumb across the back of her neck and she sighed, then shook her head slowly from side to side. His heart sank. 

"Nothing ever changes," she said in monotone, it was almost so quiet he couldn't hear it.

He removed his hand. "It's getting late, you should rest, Annika." He handed her one of the little white pain pills and watched her swallow it. Her eyes held that same emotionless look they had in them the first time he saw her. Then a smile quirked at the corner of her mouth, though it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"I..appreciate your kindness." She winced at the use of the personal pronoun, as if she were expecting to be struck. It was, Garrus decided, much like talking to a wall trying to explain things to her. He smiled back at her anyways. 

"You're safe now, Annika, just, get some sleep." 

Maybe even a wall would understand if he repeated himself enough times.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was the chapter I had the most trouble with when I posted it on kink meme. I ended up writing a short essay on my characterization of Garrus which cleared things up a lot. I have to admit...I am not completely happy with how it turned out, even after editing things...
> 
> Hmm..
> 
> "I originally had Garrus being much more resistant, but I really didn't feel like that was ME1 Garrus when I looked at the final product. I remember actually dis-liking his character a bit back then. He doesn't seem to connect his actions to consequences, especially when it's not his consequence to deal with. He gripes comstantly about paperwork, but he doesn't grasp the idea that the paperwork isn't there to keep him from doing his job it's to protect people he sees as getting in the way of him doing his job. The Dr Saleon incident is one example of that. He wants to make this unilateral decision for all of the live victims on the ship. He doesn't consider any other options, just decides that "hey, they'd be better off dead." He never thinks things through. It's the reason he got himself into that shitstorm on Omega in the first place, he let his emotions get the best of him. I think of ME1 Garrus as someone who just kind of gives into whatever feelings are the most powerful, in this case sexual ones. Part of what makes his character arc so fantastic is how he goes from being a young, impulsive hot head to the much more thoughtful Garrus of ME3. 
> 
> Here, he just doesn't get it. He has strong feelings and he acts on them. He might, in the back of his mind, have this idea that what Shep needs is a kind, attentive lover and that will "fix" her. For him, a huge part of this whole situation is being the hero that saves the day. It's an incorrect way of looking at it, but for someone who is young, impulsive, and has little experience with victims of truama, it seems like a plausible one. Don't worry, there's going to be an "oh shit, I screwed up" reaction coming soon as he realizes just how different his view of sex is from Shepards."

"This doesn't have to hurt. It doesn't have to be a punishment."

She doesn't turn her head at the voice above her, just focuses on the wall. Her limbs have been splayed and tied, star-like, on the table. The batarian kneeling above her turns her head and brushes a thumb across the tear stains on her cheeks. 

She shudders violently. Then stiffens in defiance. "Just get on with it so I can go back to my cell." Her voice is ragged from screaming and crying, but firm with resolve. 

The batarian detaches a stick from his belt and digs it into her side. "You will talk properly."

The electric shock hits her and she screams through clenched teeth. When she regains speech she hurls every curse word she knows at him, plus a few she has picked up from her captors. 

The batarian waits patiently, rubbing his thumb across her shoulder. When she is finally silent he strokes her breast tenderly for a moment, then undoes his pants. She braces herself for pain, she knows she's dry, but he stops. "It can be painful, like the last time, or I can make it feel nice. Your choice." He pauses, running a hand along her waist and then grins, "just tell me how much you want me." 

She only sneers and he shrugs, but when his member brushes against her, hot and hard, her resolve weakens. Her insides already feel raw and painful from the last few days. "Wait, wait, let's work this out. We can..we can work this out." 

He stops, "you know what you have to do, slave." 

She rankles at the title and stammers a few moments. It's just a sentence. A collection of words. Soon she will be rescued and it won't matter. All she needs to do is survive. "I- she wants you." 

"Wants me to what?"

She whimpers, "can't no-", he presses against her and she tries to squirm away, blurting out. "I want you to fuck me." 

"Try again"

She takes a deep breath that turns into a growl, "She wants you to fuck her, master." It's only a sneered whisper, but it's enough. The batarian kisses her cheek, "good girl. We'll work on tone later."

He pours lubricant into his hand and rubs at her slit. There's a growing sensation there that she decides not to think about. instead, she stares up at the ceiling and makes a list of things she's going to do when the alliance rescues her: take a hot bath, sleep in a bed, possibly scrub her skin off...

\--------

When she woke everything was wrong. She couldn't remember ever waking, trembling and caught in the webs of her memories. She could barely remember being such a bad slave yesterday, but today the memory was breaking on her like a wave. She wiped sweat from her brow and took a deep breath. It was probably the fault of that asari woman. She had made her remember. 

Remembering only brought pain. 

The next thing that was wrong were her surroundings. She generally didn't sleep on sofas like this. Usually she woke in a cage, or on the floor up at the foot of her owner's bed. This was much more comfortable though. She was sore and whatever medication she was on made her head feel like it was stuffed with cotton.

She stretched her legs and arched her back, yawning. Her ribs ached, but they no longer seemed to shift, like yesterday.

She wondered what time it was. How late had she slept? It was hard to tell what time it was in the wards. There was no day/night cycle. When she had lived on planets she would wake before dawn and prepare breakfast. The krogan had kept her so busy she had dropped off to sleep whenever he let her and woke whenever he cuffed or kicked her. 

It took only a cursery examnation of the flat to realize the turian, Garrus, was already gone.

He had left her a note on the table. She picked it up and looked at it a long moment and then set it down. She hadn't read, if she ever had, in years. There were things she had forgotten. Unimportant things. That could be one of them. It didn't help her, so she had forgotten it.

She surmised from the bag of clothes and toiletries that he wished her to be clean and dressed.

The shower was deliciously hot. She relished the hot water against her skin and the steam filling the room. It was impolite to linger, but she decided to indulge. Garrus didn't seem like the type to worry over the smaller details of her etiquette. She took the extra few minutes to take stock of her situation.

Any time she was bought and sold there was a process of adjusting. Learning the likes and dislikes of a new master, what his expectations were for her. She must catch on quickly, or suffer punishments. Her role was to become invisible unless she was needed and to anticipate in what instances that was.

This Garrus had some strange ideas. From allowing her a name to his apparent concern for her well being. She wasn't used to such personal attention. The closest thing she could approximate was her last turian owner. He had left claw marks on her sides, but spent time afterwards rubbing medigel on them and whispering in her ear. The wounds were a gift, he had said, so she wouldn't forget him. 

Still, when Garrus touched her, it was with more gentleness then anyone had ever. It made her wary. How much longer until she found his dark side? She decided to watch her steps very carefully. Especially while her body recovered, she doubted she could take the trauma of a severe beating. 

She made her decision, whether he had spoken truth when he said she was free, or if he hadn't, he had the power to hurt her. The best thing she could do to keep him from doing just that was to treat him as if he were any other master. She would adjust to his quirks and do as he said. 

She hadn't believed in luck or fate in a long time, only the insatiable cruelty of sapient life, but maybe she had finally found somewhere safe. A part of her, small and weak, but, for the first time, existent, began to hope that she could be safe. She diverted her mind from it, paid it no mind, afraid that listening to it would only make her life worse. If there was nothing better out there for her she could continue surviving.

Her hair was tangled and matted and it took a while to comb it all out. By the time she was dressed in clean clothes and showered she already felt tired again. Her stomach growled and she wondered if she should eat. Garris had bought her levo food, but she had been punished before for eating with out permission.

She hesitated, but her belly won out in the end. She made herself a small sandwich, eating slowly to make it last. When she had finished she went about work. There was frozen Malsa, a turian equivalent of chicken, in the freezer that would do for Garrus's dinner and the house needed straightening. Garrus, it seemed, had a love of take out, or so she surmised from the boxes left on the tables and counters. She spent the afternoon cleaning and preparing dinner.

By the time the door creaked open and Garrus entered she was standing over the stove as the malsa crackled and popped merrily in the frying pan. She turned at the noise and bowed her head to the left respectfully.

"Whoa, what have you been up to?" 

He looked taken aback. She studied him, unsure what the reaction forboded. The back of her head was throbbing again, her stomach flopped nervously. She took a step back, baring her throat in attempt to pacify him. He sat down on a stool across the counter.

"Don't worry, I'm glad you're feeling better. That might be the best malsa I've smelled since the last time I went home." 

She smiled and bowed her head to the left again. 

"Where did you learn to cook dextro?" 

She flipped the meat before answering, taking a moment to remind herself that he didn't like her to speak normally. "My masters taught me how to serve most sapient species."

"Hm, didn't mean to bring up bad memories." 

She flipped the malsa onto a plate and set it on the now clean counter in front of him. "You've done me no harm." 

He was watching her with nterest and she wondered anxiously what he was expecting of her. Garrus cleared his throat, "are you, um, you made something for yourself, right?"

She looked at him in surprise. She had never been asked to eat with any of her owners before, as if she were an equal. It occured to her that he might be testing her. Maybe he was planning to punish her for her breach in manners later. She wrapped her arms around herself and shrank back. He was helping her recover, only to hurt her later. 

He walked into the kitchen and jerked open the refrigerator. "You won't feel better if you don't eat." He laughed, "honestly, I can't believe you made me dinner and didn't get anything for yourself. You did take the meds right? They'll help with the pain and keep infection out."

She stared at him blankly.

"I left the note." He studied her and shook his head. "Shit, look, just sit down."

She wasn't supposed to disobey direct orders. Still, he shouldn't be up throwing ingrediants onto the counter. That was her job. She lingered at his elbow in indecision for a few moments. He glanced at her, "relax, you made me dinner, and I'm returning the favor. Now have a seat. Probably shouldn't have been up this much anyways."

She sat and waited until he served her a sandwich like the one she had had for lunch. He stayed for a moment watching her across the counter. "I guess it's not quite as elaborate as fried malsa but," he reached across the table and touched her hand, "if you keep sticking around I'll have to learn to cook levo."

Unsure of what kind of response he expected, she took a bite of her food. He re-seated himself next to her and did the same. "So, table conversation," he said when he had finished chewing, "most people talk around the dinner table. For instance, you could ask me how my day was." 

She looked back down at her plate, "How was your day?" 

Garrus smiled, "thanks for asking," his shoulders drooped a bit, "it was frustrating. I'm trying to figure out who you are and nothing's working. No idea why I can't find you. You were a teenager when you went missing, someone should have reported it." He eyed her, "did you remember anything else?" 

For a moment she considered telling him her dream, but it didn't contain what he was looking for. She didn't want to talk about it, she didn't want to think about a time when she had been so bad. She shookk her head, "no."

"We'll keep looking, we'll figure out where you belong." He put a hand on her shoulder, "in the meantime it's hard to complain about the cooking. Not to mention the cleaning." He still seemed troubled.

She watched as he went about his evening routine, waiting for him to give her some indication of what was expected. He seemed intent on making things confusing for her. There were no indications, even subtle ones, of what he expected from her.

Eventually he settled onto his bed, hunching over for a moment and cradling his head. She nodded to herself, this was familiar. He had stressful day. He needed to relax.

She knelt behind him on the bed and touched his shoulders gently. He made a noise of surprise.She dug her fingers between the plates and touched the knotted muscles.

"Whoa." Garrus leaned his head back. 

She rubbed the muscles between his plates, loosening the knots. The turian sighed, "that feels...amazing."

She continued and he was reduced to a low rumbling sound of pleasure. She moved a hand to the sensitive, unguarded skin beneath his crest. He gasped. She listened to his breathing, paying attention to the spots that made him put or moan. When she felt his tense muscles loosening she moved around him. Kneeling on top of him, she undid the top clasp of his tunic. 

"Hey," he touched her hands, "you don't-"

His words cut off into another purr of pleasure as she leaned down and nipped playfully at his mandible. She brushed the back of his fringe again and knelt on the couch, legs on either side of his. Garrus' eyes dropped to her waist. She rolled her hips above his lap and undid a few more clasps on his tunic. He touched the bottem of her rib cage tentatively. She heard him mutter, "spirits, Annika you can't-" his words trailed off as she ran a hand down his chest and stopped just above his pants. 

He shut his eyes and muttered a turian curse, but his hands touched the hem of his shirt, rubbing it between his fingers. She wasn't quite sure what to make of his preliminary resistance, but, in any case, he seemed to be losing it. She felt a rush of security. Whatever he might have changed, whatever changes he might claim to have given her life, he wasn't any different then her masters. She wasn't as lost as she thought. She could still make sense of this.

She helped Garrus by lifting the hem of her shirt and pulling it over her head. Losing his shyness, he placed his hands on either side of her waist. He was gentle, careful of her bruises. He nipped gently at her shoulder. The sensation was pleasant against her skin. When she felt certain of his full attention she moved from his lap to the floor between his knees already working at his pants. His hands brushed along her face cupping her chin and weaving through her hair. Occasionally, he murmured a protest, but they all died in his throat as she tugged at his pants. 

His plates were already shifting back and she could see the tip of his member. She leaned forward, watching him from beneath her eyelashes. Garrus' head was tilted slightly down and he watched her with half closed eyes. She drew out the moment, running her hands along the insides of his thighs. She kissed his hip bones and he shuddered beneath her lips. 

Finally, she leaned forward and licked at the tip of his cock, now fully emerged from his plates. He sucked in a breath, and as she engulfed the length of his member fully into her mouth. His hands continued tangling in her hair and his hips jerked once before he regained control. She planted on hand on his left hip and moved the other down to her pants slipping a hand inside and rubbing until she was wet.

Garrus rested his hands on her shoulders, stroking them gently as a series of unintelligible sounds came from his mouth. She swirled her tongue around him and his grip tightened. When he was fully emerged she bobbed her head down engorging him fully. Garrus moaned and when she raised her head he was watching her with longing, eyes dark with lust.

She stood again, pushing her pants and underwear to the floor and kneeling on top of him again. "Annika," he whispered as she lowered herself. The Krogan had left raw and torn up inside and she gritted her teeth behind a moan. 

The change of their positions was so sudden it took her breath away. One moment she was on top, moving against him, and the next he had twisted, rolling them over while remaining connected. His pace increased and she thrust her hips up to meet him. When she felt he was close she clenched her inner walls around him and he gave a short cry finishing deep inside of her. 

He rolled off of her after a moment, panting. "That was- I mean," he glanced at her, "are you ok, you..I didn't mean to to hurt you." He fingered one of her bruises looking remorseful and she smiled at him. "I- did you come?" He asked after a moment

She ran a reassuring hand over his shoulder and he smiled. "I've never been with a human before," he mused, he looked at her again, "you're ok?" 

She nodded and started to leave but he grabbed her wrist gently, "hey, don't go anywhere. You can stay here." He urged her onto the bed and she lay down watching him. He leaned back, sitting against the wall and stroked her hair. 

\--------

Garrus touched Annika's shoulder. She didn't wake. He probably shouldn't have...well..they probably shouldn't have. He had meant to tell her no. He had tried to push her off of him, but damn, the woman knew what she was doing. Somehow, she had made all conscious thought leave his mind and reduced him to instinct. 

He stroked the side of her face. Annika curled up more tightly. She seemed as if she were hoping that making herself tiny would eventually result in disappearing entirely. She looked healthier. At least, her bruises had faded a bit since yesterday and she seemed to move with less pain. He hoped he hadn't hurt her. Before she had fallen asleep he had noticed the reddened chaffed skin on her belly and thighs from where his roughnolates had rubbed against her smooth skin. He touched her shoulder, "Annika. Annika, wake up."

She sighed and blinked up at him, eyes widening in alarm. He backed away, "hey, don't panic. You're safe." 

She rolled over on her back and started to spread her legs as she reached for him. He felt a spasm of remorse. He shouldn't have slept with her. He swallowed it and pushed her hand away. "No, I brought lotion." He held up the jar and she looked at it quizzically. 

"May I?" He asked. 

She nodded. Garrus opened the jar and spread the creme on her stomach. She flinched when he first touched her, but began to relax as he rubbed the lotion in. Annika let out a sigh and half closed her eyes. Before he had finished, she was nearly asleep again. He set the jar side and curled his body around hers. Annika took a sharp breath, stiffening in fear. 

Garrus crooned in her ear, trying to calm her. He felt another sharp pang of guilt. After a moment, she relaxed. He wasn't going to sleep with her again, he decided. It was just this one time. She needed comfort and security, not sex. Next time he would tell her no. 

Next time.


	6. Chapter 6

This was definitely a bad idea, Garrus thought, as Annika slipped onto his lap for another night. It was, at least, probably not a good idea. It was, after all, not like he had propositioned her. This was all her idea, not his. Hell, she had practically thrown herself at him. He was only turian. She had come to him every night since that first one, not once had he sought her out. Still, when he lay in bed next to her, tracing the curves of her body, hours later, he felt like a child who had stolen a sweet before dinner. 

She didn't like Garrus to focus on her when they had sex. When he tried to return her ministration she would seek out some other sensitive spot on him, drawing his attention away. He kept trying, but he didn't want to take control away from her. He wanted her to understand that she was safe.

Garrus admired her. She was small and soft, but she was tougher then some Turians he had met. She had to be to have survived. When she was asleep he found himself tracing the lines of her scars and whispering in her ear, "I will never let anyone hurt you like this again." 

Annika seemed to trust him to, on some level at least. He could tell from the way she would curl against him, seeking the warmth of her skin touching his plates. He could tell from the way she would wake at odd hours, shivering and muttering half formed words from dreams she refused to talk about. She would clutch at his arm like a life raft. 

He tried to ask her what she saw during the early morning hours but she would flinch away whispering that she didn't remember. He decided she was lying when, after she said that, she touched a blackened brand mark on her arm and winced, as if it still hurt her. Still, Garrus tried to respect her privacy. She would tell him if and when she wanted to. 

Garrus knew, of course, that he should tell Annika no, and send her away when she slipped into his room at night. He tried to summon the willpower, but when he tried to give voice to it her face would go pale, and pinched, and fearful. It reminded him of the way she looked on the floor of the dingy apartment where he had found her. 

Maybe a relationship, sex even, was even good for her. He actually gave a damn about her. There was something desperate and vulnerable in the way she came to him. It gave him the desire to reassure her. He wasn't going anywhere. As long as Annika needed him, he planned on being there for her. 

She was fascinating, Ana unsolved mystery for him. Garrus loved the way she would hum under her breath as she worked. When she would speak (not half as often as he wished she would) he loved the sound of her voice. Low and husky, not at all the sort of voice you'd expect on a woman like her, but somehow charming. 

His co-workers didn't comment on the situation much. Delanus told him, as obligated, that it was a stupid idea, that he should leave her to professionals who knew how to help her best with the obligatory optimistic, stubborn young fool comment. Sometimes he wondered if he should trust the older turian and surrender her to someone who knew how to help her. In the end though, it was him he wanted her to need. He wanted save her.

The only person besides Delanus who took the time to comment on it was a batarian named Molgur. 

"Hear you rescued a slave," he commented one day over lunch.

Garrus nodded an affirmative, "yeah."

"Keeping her away from the sharp objects?"

"What?" 

"Just some advice. For if she starts remembering too much."

He nodded slowly, for the first time starting to feel a little nervous about the job he had undertaken. He watched her closely. She didn't seem like she was going to hurt herself. On the other hand, she still looked like a woman who didn't have any strength left to fight. He decided not to do anything until later, if he needed to, but he started to worry as he watched her make progress.

He had come home once to find scrap paper in the trash with blocky clumsy letters written on them. He recognized the forms from some of his human co-workers. There didn't seem to be a rhyme or reason for it. He had asked her, wondering if she was regaining memory. She had quietly denied all knowledge of it. It had been all he could do not to laugh looking into her eyes wide with innocence. On the other hand, he was sorry she felt she still had to hide her re-emerging memories.

The first time he took her out it was to the presidium. He had worried for a few weeks that she would slip and call him master, as she was prone to for the first left months. It would have been embarrassing to be accused of participating in the slave trade, even if the accusation was unfounded. His worries had been for nothing. 

Annika had been fascinated by the simulated sun. He found a restaurant with a balcony for them so she could savor the feeling of warmth on her face, even if it was only a simulation. 

"Have you lived on many planets," he asked her over dinner. 

"I lived on Khar'Shan for a short time, but then they shipped me away and I spent the rest of the time on Omega or ships." She looked up at the the synthetic light again and it illuminated her features and reflected in her green eyes. "I didn't get to go outside much."

He took her hand across the table, "we'll have to change that." He took her back every chance he could. She never left the apartment without him, despite his encouragment. He wondered if she really believed she could. Maybe, as she regained more and more of her memories she would experiment more with her new freedom. For now, he let it go, but it wouldn't be long. He could see the signs, more then just the nightmares. She was changing. 

She still had days were she acted like a slave again, cooking, and cleaning, and treating him with undue deference. He hated it, but any sign of his discontent would send her flinching away from him. In bed, she would pull away from his grasp or else stiffen in fear, and he would have to wait until she fell asleep to hold her. 

On other days he could feel the girl she had been just out of his reach. She would talk to him, even laugh at his jokes. Or as close as she came to laughing. It was more of a slow, small smile. 

One day Garrus came home to find Annika seated on a couch, the house unusually messy. She was working, half bent over, in profile to him, her hair draped behind her back and her legs crossed on the couch. Her tongue stuck out slightly in concentration as she worked at something and she was tunelessly humming. He watched her for a moment, trying to figure out what she was so intent on, it was just put of his sight.

He must have made some noise because she jerked upright and stuffed something between the cushions of the couch. She stood and walked towards the kitchen. "I must have fallen asleep. I'll put dinner on." She kept her eyes trained downwards, though he thought she may have glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.

He shook his head and walked over to the couch to find the object. It was something hard and round. His hand closed around it and he looked down at it in surprise. "Did you do this?" He held up the omni-tool. It was an odd miss-mash of parts from various companies put together with no small degree of skill. He recognized a few of them as models he had bought, used, and put aside. Annika glanced down at the food she was putting together. "I found a box, none of them worked." She glanced warily up at him. "I didn't finish."

"Will it work if you do?" 

Annika gave it an appraising look, "I don't know, but I think so."

"how did you do this?" 

She chewed on her lip, "it just- it made sense. I don't know why." 

He noticed the small box he kept some of his older models in sitting out in the coffee table. "Anni, you can talk to me." 

She shook her head, "not supposed to speak." 

Garrus shut his eyes for a moment, trying desperately not to let his frustration show. This had become a bad habit of hers- Dodging questions by retreating into the rules of her former life. "that isn't the way things are any more."

Normally, at this point, Annika would excuse herself, or stubbornly refuse to respond to anything. This time however her shoulders heaved with a fristrated sigh. "I know things sometimes. I don't know how or why." She made a face and walked over. He handed her the patched together 'tool and she examined it thoughtfully. 

"I used one to try to run once." Her voice was low and surprised. Garrus watched her. She shut her eyes for a moment and breathed a sigh. 

"You want to talk about it?" 

She hesitated a moment before her features twisted into an expression of concentration. "I think I stole it. Took me a long. I tried to overload one of their 'tools. I hacked the door ok, even knoked a guard out. But it ran out of power before I could get out and they got me."

Garrus looked at her in surprise. That was quite the speech. 

Annika tirned th tool over and over in her hands, a vacant look in her eyes. "It was a mistake. I was wrong."

Garrus used a talon to trace the curve of her jaw, "you weren't wrong, they were."

She dropped the 'tool onto the coffee table, "I think I was hoping that if I didn't get out they would kill me. I just want- wanted it to be over."

"Do you still feel that way?" 

Annika didn't answer, instead she excused herself to make dinner. It was infuriating how she could be so obedient while resisting simultaneously. Garrus could only shake his head and let her go.

He wasn't sure what to make of it. Annika had never spoken of her life as a slave in the past month. She had never expressed anger or resentment or sorrow for her treatment, for everything she must have lost. She kept her eyes focused on the path in front of her feet, never looking back, never looking up, never doing anything that would upset whatever fragile mental balance she had found.

She was silent for the rest of the evening. Mugur's words echoed in his ears. And Garrus wondered if he should be watching her more closely.   
Normally Annika's nightmares left her shaking but that night they woke her screaming. She writhed out of his grasp, drawing sharp gasps of air between cries, her eyes still tightly closed. Garrus jerked awake and reached over, "Anni. it's a dream." He stroked her hair, trying to reach her. "You're safe. Shh." 

Her eyes finally opened and she blinked a moment before giving a sharp cry and jerking away from his touch, "don't. Don't touch me." 

She had never done that before. "Ok," He backed off, "ok, are you-"

She hugged her knees to her chest and let out a strangled sob. Garrus swallowed. He reached for her, but she cowered, lifting arm to protect her head, "don't touch me, just leave me alone." She dropped her forehead to her knees, panting. "Please." 

What else could he do? He left her there and headed for the living room. The couch wasn't comfortable, but it was better then nothing. Being woken constantly for so many nights had left him tired and it didn't take long for him to fall asleep. 

It was a surprise when he woke in the morning, stumbled to his room to check on her, and found it empty.


	7. Chapter 7

Annika found herself savoring moments curled close to Garrus. He was warm and smelled of grease and armor polish, it was a good smell. She liked the way he would use his talons to trace through her hair and rub tiny circles on her scalp. She liked the way he watched her when he didn't think she noticed. She liked his eyes. She wasn't quite sure what to make of her life anymore, but he made her feel safe. 

It scared her though, what he made her feel. Everything she had felt had been used against her, turned into a punishment. At night, when that warm feeling uncurled deep in her belly she tried to ignore it. He was going to leave her eventually; he would sell her or send her away. Maybe he would snap finally. She had the sense there was a nasty temper boiling beneath the surface. It was better if she didn't feel anything for him. She may not be able to stop him from turning on her, but she could keep him happy with her for as long as possible. 

The nightmares were new to her. Annika had never dreamed before, and she kept hoping it would stop. She was content now, why couldn't she focus on that and forget everything else. It wasn't important. She had survived, and she would continue to.

She never fully understood her dream anyways. They were a terrifying conglomeration of people and events and moments she never wanted to relive. She would lie awake for long hours afterwards listening to Garrus croon in her ear. He made funny noises when he slept. There were some nightmares, though, that he couldn't give her comfort afterwards, like the coffin.

The coffin, shaped exactly as the name suggested, had been used for punishing batarian prisoners. It was especially effective on humans, social creatures that they were. Locked inside of the coffin and heavily restrained there was no one who cared to hear the screams of those locked inside, or if they heard them, they never heeded them. When released, the effects of sensory deprivation were agonizing. The dreams of it left her feeling the same way, unable to process the blur of colors and clash of sounds for hours.

She had begged for the first time in her captivity when they locked her inside that first time. Up to that point, Annika had protested, screamed, and cursed her captors, but until then she had avoided begging. She'd rather die then appeal to their mercy, but that box in front of her might as well have been death. The prospect of being trapped- No light, No noise, No air, but what was recycled and pumped back through the box- terrified her. 

But her captors were merciless and brutal and much stronger then a naked, starving girl. They shoved her inside and slammed the bolts of the restraints into place. They paused, running hungry hands across her curves and laughing at her incohernet pleas. "Anything", Annika promised, "anything, just don't leave me alone. Just leave me a light. Just one, please." 

They were deaf to her. The lid slammed into place. Only silence.

The air was thick and heavy and she could hear the whir of the machine that recycled it. She breathed in her own screams and jerked against the shackles. They gave not even an inch. Sweat trickled down her bare skin. It was hot as hell and she was lightheaded from thirst. How long had she been in here? She swallowed rapidly, trying to generate some moisture, but it was in vain. What if they had forgotten about her? She pictured herself as a skeleton, discovered years later as beetles made their way in and out of her long empty eye sockets. A shudder racked her body, despite the suffocating heat, and Annika summoned the strength to scream again.

There was no answer, no light. 

It was two days before they came back for her.

When she woke, the shackles of the dream falling away and leaving her shaking, she padded to the doorway. Every sound felt amplified, every touch seemed to set her nerves on fire. She still felt confined and shook her arms out, testing to make sure she could still move them.

Garrus snored on the couch and she glanced at him. He might miss her if he woke up before she made it back. She shivered again, he hadn't hurt her yet. She'd just be back before he missed her. He had encouraged her to get out more. She had never gone without him, but she couldn't stay. She needed the feeling of open air, even simulated open air, to chase the claustrophobia away. 

Before she could talk herself out of it she darted through the door. The open air of the streets was both terrifying and calming. She couldn't remember ever walking the streets alone, and certainly not at his time of night, but she took comfort in the ability to move her limbs freely. When she stopped, the terrifying feeling of confinement returned, so she kept moving, turning down alley after alley, losing herself in the wards.

She broke into a jog. With no day/night cycle, the wards remained crowded at nearly all hours of the day. She slammed nearly head on into someone walking by. He turned to look at her and she hunched her shoulder inward and ducked her head. 

She must be an odd sight, clad in sweatpants and an old t-shirt and jogging in, what she now realized was, the wrong area of the wards. She brushed by another person. She should go back. Another alley. Which way was back? Her palms started to sweat. 

"The hell?" 

"Watch where you're going!"

The areas are growing more crowded and she was lost. She stopped and turned in a circle. Which direction had she come from in the first place? A knot of panic started to grow in her chest.

What had she been thinking? She was lost and Garrus would be up soon. 

Someone grabbed her arm and whirled her around. A human, tall, and pale, with dark hair smiled down at her. "Hey sweetie. You okay?" 

Annika, directed her eyes back down and tried to reclaim her arm, "I'm fine, thank you." 

His hand tightened and he propelled her towards a back alley. "Let me see if I can help you, baby."

Her back slammed uncomfortably against the brick wall. She didn't want him. She wanted him gone. A whimper left her throat as his hands held her firmly back as his hips moved forward, trapping her against the wall. 

She stopped struggling as instinct set in. Weeks with Garrus had left her unused to harsh treatment, but it wasn't enough to erase years of training. She relaxed. The sooner he finished whatever he was going to do, the sooner it would be over. The man felt the change, "good girl."

The man kept whispering in her ear as he worked at her shirt a moment and then started to nudge her sweatpants down. Annika shut her eyes. There was a harsh metallic sound as he undid his pants. Bile rose in her throat. He smelled like cheap ciggerettes and booze. Probably watered down ryncol. He whispered into her neck his hands roaming and groping her squeezing her ass hard enough that she figured she'd have bruises later. She'd had worse. 

She forced herself to find the refuge in her mind and stay there. A mental escape was a lousy escape, but it was an escape. She blocked out the words and feelings and imagined she was safe in bed and warm. It was almost enough to kee her from feeling his cock against her thigh, hard and hot.

"What the hell is going on here?" 

Annika blinked, concentration broken.The rapist cursed, and shoved her to the ground. She could hear him running. Someone was giving chase. Slowly, she stood to her feet, feeling dazed.

"Ma'am?" She whirled. Four eyes looked back at her placidly. 

They were going to take her back. 

She started to back up, shaking her head. "No. No, please." 

"Ma'am, are you ok?" She couldn't process the words. Just the sound of the voice. Deep and gravelly, she knew what that kind of voice meant. She didn't want to go back. She didn't want to be caged anymore. She wanted to go back to Garrus. She shouldn't have left. 

There were more people, a crowd who was gathering. She poured forth inarticulate pleas for mercy. Someone was stepping out of the crowd and walking towards her. The world was blending together in a terrifying mix of color and sound. Her back bumped against a wall and she crouched, looking for a direction to run. 

There were people. Too many people. No where to go.

She could feel a scream building in her chest.

A turian crouched a few feet in front of her and nodded, before speaking into his omni-tool. "Found your girl, Garrus. Sending you coordinates."

He looked at her carefully, "you ok? Did he hurt you?"

Annika shook her head, "no." 

He hadn't. She didn't think she had more than bruises, but she felt as if she had been. As if some wound deep inside of her had broken open and was still bleeding. The officer glanced up, "I think everyone else can go on their way unless they wanna make a statement."

The crowd that had gathered started to disperse. 

"Garrus should be here any minute. Poor boy was about to have a heart attack when he thought you were gone, and I'm the only one around here who should even think about having a heart attack. Spirits know it's the only way I'll be allowed to retire."

He gestured to the area of the wall next to her, "mind if an old turian sits next to you. My back ain't what it used to be."

She shook her head, too tired and confused to voice any real objection, and he eased himself into a sitting position a few feet away and began to talk. "Garrus called me 'bout, ah, hour or so ago. You really gave him a scare. Scared the shit out of that poor batarian too." He chuckled. "Does seem like you're at least a little spunkier then the last time I saw you. Garrus treating you ok?" 

He waited for her nod.

"Don't tell him I said, but damn if he doesn't like you. Might be a little, whatcha call it? Besotted? I keep telling him you're outta his league." 

Annika couldn't help smiling and the turian shook his head again, "crazy fucking kids." 

"Annika, are you alright?" Garrus was running and looked as if he had been for a while. He knelt in front of her. "Spirits, you scared me."

She winced, wondering if he was angry. Surely he would punish her for leaving, maybe even send her away. He reached out a hand. She took it and got to her feet. Almost immediately he pulled her into an embrace, nuzzling the top of her head. 

When he pushed her away gently he scanned her quickly. Assured that she was relatively unharmed, he let out a long breath. "Want to go home?"

She sagged in relief, "yes."

They piled into Delanus's car for the trip. The older turian was watching Garrus closely, almost suspiciously. It was a longer ride then Annika thought it would have been. She must have been walking for a long time. At that realization, she started to feel exhausted. She hadn't actually gotten much sleep the previous night. Leaning against the window she shut her eyes, just for a minute.

When she opened them again Garrus was lifting her out of the car. She took a sharp breath of surprise and wondered if this was when he was finally going to express his anger. Instead, he pressed his forehead to hers. "Sleep, Annika." She wrapped an arm around his cowl and leaned her head against his shoulder. He gripped her more tightly. 

Delanus keyed the door open and shrugged, "you gonna offer me a drink?" 

Garrus stepped through, "figured you already invited yourself. Seemed redundant."

"Good boy. I'll get the beers. You get her to bed." 

Garrus stayed with her, combing at her hair and rubbing her back for a few minutes. He pressed his mouth to her cheek, approximating a human kiss. "Try not to go anywhere Annika. Or at least let me know."


	8. Chapter 8

"I don't know what you were thinking, Garrus."

The two men sat in the darkened living room, nursing dextro beers. Garrus leaned back against the couch, "I don't what you mean." His heart rate was gradually starting to calm. When he had found her missing he had imagined a multitude of grizzly scenarios playing out with her as the victim. He had even wondered if somehow one of the slavers whose hands she had passed through had found her. 

Sometimes, he had reflected as another picture of her bloodied and broken materialized, working at c-sec didn't help a situation. He had been hoping to hide his nervousness from Delanus, but it didn't seem to be working.

"This girl is what I mean." He leaned forward, "don't think I don't see it." 

Garrus shifted uncomfortably. Turians were bad liars, so he dodged the question. "Hungry? Think we've got leftovers." 

It wasn't that he was ashamed of Annika, but it didn't seem like a good idea to talk too much about their...whatever it was. It was, at the very least, less than professional and she needed him. He couldn't let her leave. 

Delanus' brow plates lifted, "no. And you need to stop being a damn fool." 

"Considering you always call me that," Garrus smirked, "you're going to have to be more specific."

"She didn't resist, Garrus. Didn't even struggle." 

"I don't follow." Not neccesarily true. He had, at least, an idea. A sick feeling started in his stomach.

Delanus raised his voice, "you damn well do, you half brained fool. She was attacked tonight. Some drunk kid tried to rape her. She just let it happen." 

Garrus' eyes narrowed. He reached unconsciously for his side arm, "he didn't. I-"

"Don't worry," the older turian held up a hand, "a civilian saw what was going on and ran him off. Question is, if she didn't care what some drunk did to her, what do you think she'd be like with you?"

Garrus shook his head. No, he absolutely refused to believe that was all that was going on. She had thrown herself at him. "It's not like that." 

"Isn't it? You're really going to tell me you two haven't...?"

"Haven't what Delanus?"

Delanus rolled his eyes, "Garrus, stop joking. She needs you. You should have seen her before you got there. She was a wreck. You need to stop taking advantage of her." 

That was taking it too far. He hadn't taken advantage of her. Delanus watched as Garrus scowled and stood, obviously intent on showing him to the door.

"Probably didn't feel like that at the time, but that's what you did."

Garrus snorted, "did I?"

Delanus nodded placidly, "I expect she started it. Probably figured if she didn't, you'd leave her on the street, or worse. So she came on strong, gave you a reason to keep her around."

The younger turians face crumpled and he sank back down to the couch, "that's not it," he denied. It couldn't be. What they had felt real, it didn't feel coerced or forced.

But Delanus continued, a devastating voice of reason, "She's spent near a decade being passed from person to person. How was she supposed to know you were any different? She did what she had to do to protect herself."

Garrus leaned forward and buried his face in his hands. A picture of turian misery. "Shit."

They were both silent as the gravity of the situation sunk in. He had really screwed it all up. She had needed a safe place, and he had used her like a cheap whore. Worse, as if she were still a slave. Delanus was the first to talk, "so what are you going to do?"

Garrus lifted his head and glanced up at the ceiling, "I'll give the social worker a call. There's got to be a place for her somewhere by now."

Delanus laughed humorlessly, "you know as well as I do that she needs you. What is she going to think if you just toss her into the next willing pair of hands?"

She would think he had tired of her and sold her off again. That's exactly what she would think, and both of them knew it. 

"You're going to need to talk to her," Delanus said firmly, when the silence had, once again, become unbearable. 

"Yeah." Garrus heaved a sigh, "it's like talking to a wall. She doesn't get it." 

"You're going to have to repeat yourself as much as they did."

Garrus glanced at the bedroom door, "I don't think I'm cut out for this." 

Delanus smirked, "could've told you that before you started." 

"yeah, but I never listen to you." 

"You should start. Anyways, you're in too deep now, Garrus." 

Garrus swallowed hard, "what if it doesn't work. What if I can't-"

Delanus interrupted him, "there isn't anyone else so you damn well better succeed. She's counting on you."

Garrus forced a smirk, "Come on now, we both know that I'm known for my skill with women and my devastating good looks."

"Just, be careful kid." Delanus dropped his beer bottle in the trash, "Now, if you'll excuse an old turian?"

He headed for the door and then stopped, pulling a datapad from this pocket and holding it out. "Took some digging, but I thought you might want to see this." 

When he had shown his partner to the door Garrus walked to the bedroom and looked inside. Annika was still asleep. He stood at the end of the bed, watching her for a long time. Part of him, a very large part, really wanted to give up. She was damaged, maybe broken beyond repair. What in the hell made him think he could fix her? He knew shit about humans. She was the first one he had really gotten to know. 

Some part of him was hurt. He had- no, he did- care for her. He had thought that she felt the same way, but that was all proving to be a lie. Was she capable of feeling anything, or had her life become nothing more than self-preservation? In a way, Garrus felt like she had broken his heart.

Annika shivered and he walked over to the bed, to pull the blanket up and around her. She grabbed it instinctually, curling into a ball, and sighed in her sleep. Garrus remembered the way she would bury her face in his shoulder during her nightmares and shook his head. He had no idea how to interpret her. They spoke two seperate languages. 

He brushed a strand of hair out of her face, it shone copper in the dim light, and he lingered over her freckles. Her sharp features were different from turians, but not in a bad way, still pretty but more delicate. He watched her for a long time, re-playing his conversation with Delanus. 

After a little while he produced the datapad Delanus had left with him, and powered it on. He had to do a double take at the red headed teen who grinned at him from the holo, but the hair and eyes and freckles were unmistakeable. Delanus had found her. Annika Shepard, a Mindoir colonist, only sixteen when her home was devastated by batarian raiders. It was hard to imagine Annika with a smile like that splitting her face, nearly in half. There wasn't a lot of information, beyond what was needed to identify her. She had no living relatives. It wasn't the news he had wanted, but at least now he knew.

It was possible that Garrus dozed off for a time sitting there beside her, but he realized with a start that she was awake and watching him. He had been around her long enough to pick up on the more subtle signs of anxiety, like the way her thumb rubbed against the finger next to it, or the ways her eyes darted around the room before looking at him again. 

He sighed, "what do you think is going to happen?" 

"I'm sorry I left. I didn't mean...I was going to come back." She swallowed hard, tensing. In earlier days she had been likely to cower when he so much as looked at her. He pictured the younger holo of her and wondered how much horror she must have seen to do this to her. Garrus stayed in his chair, even as she sat up, watching him warily. Hopefully distance would give her some security. "Why did you go?" He asked softly.

Annika's lips tightened and she turned her head away from him. The deaf and mute act. Garrus rubbed his forehead, "Annika I can't help you unless you let me. I was scared someone had hurt you." He sighed, "do you want to stay here? There are better-"

"Yes." The answer was quiet, but it was immediate. Her breath hitched, "don't send me back. Please. I'll do better. I won't leave again." 

Garrus reached out an arm and used a talon to turn her face towards him, "I'm not going to make you do anything. You can stay with me as long as you want to. I won't send you back to the batarians, no matter what. You'll never go back there again."

Annika paused a moment, processing, then let out a long breath, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. From the look in her eyes she didn't quite believe him, but this was progress. 

Garrus resisted the urge to touch her anymore and pulled his arm back. Better not to start. He paused before the next topic, "Delanus said someone attacked you out there. He said you didn't fight." 

The silence stretched between them, thick and impenetrable. He wasn't sure that he expected an answer. Annika rarely responded to difficult topics that weren't phrased as direct questions. 

After a moment he handed her the datapad. She looked at the picture and then touched her own face, brow furrowed. She set it aside after a moment. Garrus felt a surge of disappointment. He wasn't sure what he had hoped the holo would do, but it didn't seem to have worked.

She pulled her knees to her chest, never taking her eyes from him. "I used to fight."

Garrus' stomach sank sickly. He wasn't sure he wanted to hear about this. He wished he had never seen that holo of her, young and carefree. It hurt him to think of her being broken and shaped into the woman he knew now. 

"I fought so hard. But they-" she paused, breathing raggedly, "and I couldn't win, and they wouldn't kill me. It hurt less if I just-" Annika shut her eyes. Garrus thought, for a moment, that she was going to cry, but she only exhaled a long slow breath. "I'm hungry." 

Garrus smiled, it wasn't much, but it was something. 

"Let's get you something to eat."


	9. Chapter 9

Something about the girl in the picture made Annika sad. She recognized it as herself, but when she looked at the her reflection in Garrus's bathroom mirror that night, she didn't see that person- a girl with fiery green eyes and flaming red hair, and smooth skin. She saw a woman, much to pale, with hollow cheeks, dull hair and eyes. Not to mention the scars, white lines that intersected at odd angles along her limbs and three blackened brand marks that spotted her arm. 

Once, in another life, she had seen a vase that had been broken and then glued back together. Cracks still ran along it. She had, tried to pour water into it, for flowers, but the water only leaked and pooled onto the floor. Her body reminded her of that vase, broken and repaired so many times. This girl in the picture was unbroken.

Something about her prompted memories of the smell of cut grass and fertilizer and the feeling of dandelions beneath her bare feet and the taste of barbecue. More recently, the acrid scent of smoke and blood and her own flesh burning and melting screaming pillars of flame. It hurt to think about any of it. It was easier when she had simply let herself forget. It had been like falling asleep as memory after memory slipped through her fingers. The things she had done, and that had been done to her, were nothing more then a nightmare, something that happened to someone else, and she was warm, and safe, and would wake soon enough. Remembering meant that it had happened to her. It meant she had to live broken. She had to live as someone who had lost everything.

Annika dragged a hand across her reflection once before she left the bathroom. She needed something tangible. Something to hold onto. She needed Garrus. He made her feel less adrift. When the waves were threatening to pull her under, he kept her afloat. When she reached for him that night as he stood beside the kitchen counter, he pushed her away. 

"Annika..." 

Her stomach twisted in a fearful knot. They always sent her away like that before they sold her. He had said he wouldn't, promised even. She pressed her body against his. Garrus' hands closed over her shoulders and pushed her gently away again. "Annika, why are you doing this?"

He looked upset, maybe even angry. She reached a tentative hand out and brushed it down his cheek. Garrus inhaled sharply and his mandibles quivered. 

Not so tough after all. 

Annika smiled mischeviously, reaching for him again. This time he caught her hand and pushed it back towards her side, directing her backwards into a chair.

"Just stay there, okay?" 

She tensed. Garrus caught her eye, "you're safe."

He took another chair a few feet away. 

"I think we need to hold off on this." 

She raised an eyebrow, "I don't-" 

"Annika" he said hoarsely, "I've been....it's not right."

She didn't understand. What had she done wrong? "I-," she began, trying to find words, "my duty...and I- I need." She wasn't making any sense. She tried to reach for him but he held up a hand.

"No. No duty. you don't need to- You're a free woman." It wasn't the first time Garrus had said that, or something similar. Annika simply wasn't sure she knew what that meant. Her masters had taight her the order of the world. That some were destined to be slaves, others masters, others casteless. The only way true order could be achieved is if everyone followed their roles. She was a slave, and freedom felt out of her reach. Maybe at one time, when she had been the girl in the picture, it would make sense. But that girl had died a long time ago, in a batarian prison camp, even if the body was still walking around.

"I don't know how to do that." She wrapped her arms around herself. She felt overwhelmed. Why couldn't things be normal? She might have lived in fear, but at least she knew what to expect. No one asked her to make choices, or made her remember the things that hurt.

Garrus reached out and took her hand, "Anni, they took you, and tortured you, and they raped you, and they made you want it." His voice was suddenly, low and intense. 

Hearing it spoken aloud was jarring. she knew that was how Garrus saw it, but she had been trained to see it differently. Maybe it hadn't worked, though. Perhaps shenhad been a bad student. It would explain why she woke up shaking when she dreamed of the crushing weight of someone on top of her. She always felt like she needed a shower when she woke like that, and she only vaguely knew why. She didn't want to think about it. She pulled backwards, yanking her hand away. "Don't," she hissed, "don't make me-"

"What?" 

She refused to look at him. He wasn't an asari, he couldn't force her to remember anything. The memories came anyways, unbidden. Grass brown and trampled to mud and mixed with blood. The dead, empty eyes of her family.

Annika bent double, arms wrapped around her body. "It hurts." She could feel the memories flooding again. They were threatening to overwhelm her. "Just stop." She wrestled herself under control. When she looked up at Garrus again he was shaking his head, "hard to be angry with you. At first when I realized...but you make it really difficult."

She trembled when he reached for her, but he only traced the curve of her jaw line. "I know it must hurt. But you need to do this. I'll be here for you, whenever you need me." He pulled his hand back, "until then...I just- I don't want to...take advantage." 

They looked at each other and Garrus shook his head, "does that even-" 

"You won't make me leave though?" She interrupted quietly. She needed to hear it again. Garrus leaned forward until his forehead brushed against hers. She met his cerulean eyes as he promised, "never."

She sighed in relief and half smiled at him, "My brother used to call me that. Anni, I mean. Like you did."

Garrus smiled, "what else do you remember about him?" 

Annika thought for a few seconds and then started to talk.


	10. Chapter 10

She still woke up screaming, her body arching into impossible angles as she howled in fear. Garrus was at the door in seconds rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He knelt beside the bed, stroking her hair back and whispering. "It was a nightmare Anni, just a nightmare. You're safe." 

She was shaking and sweating when she finally recognized her surroundings. Se was drowning and she couldn't swim, so she threw her arms around him and stifled a sob in his cowl. It was only in these brief periods between waking and sleeping that she would cry in harsh, choked sobs that dried up as soon as she was collected enough to know where she was.

He crooned gently in her ear, and stroked her hair until she finally pulled away, capping off her tears. 

"What do you dream about Anni?" 

Annika didn't want to talk about it. She shook her head, gulping down one last sob.

Garrus stroked her cheek gently, "talk to me."

"I saw-" she hesitated, to make sense of it, "I saw th- my family. They were on fire." 

Night after night it happened like this. She would wake screaming and Garrus would come running. Slowly, but surely she started to tell him what had happened. A memory of an owner who had beaten her within an inch of her life, or the asari matriarch who had used melds to find her worst fears and then make them come true, or the worst ones, memories of being trained and broken and formed into a slave.

"Is there anyone else who survived?" She asked one night as she curled into the warmth of his chest plates. 

Garrus hesitated, running a hand down her back soothingly. "Anni, it was a bad attack. They didn't even take many slaves. Mostly, they just killed everyone." 

"Oh." The news wasn't shocking. She had guessed as much, but it was jarring to hear. There was more she needed to know though, now that she could clearly remember the people she had once called family, she had to be sure. "My family?" 

"Annika, you" Garrus hesitated, "you have me." 

"My family?" She pressed. 

"Dead," he confirmed. "I-I'm sorry." 

Annika let out a shakey breath before asking the next question. "What if they, the mast- batarians, come looking for me? Can they find me?" 

It was a question that haunted her nightmares and kept her safely in the house. When she left, it was usually only with Garrus. Just seeing a batarian was enough to make her want to run for cover.

Garrus didn't answer for a long time. Finally, he ran a hand along her arm, fingering the brand marks, "if I ever find the bastards who gave you these, I'll kill them. Slowly."

It was reassuring, but the violent look in his eyes made her blood run cold.


	11. Chapter 11

"He was going to kill me, you know," Annika said one night as she face down on the couch and Garrus tried to rub the tension out of the muscles in her back. "The krogan you shot when you first found me."

He knew that if she were looking at him she'd have that distant look in her eyes. Her voice had taken on that monotone quality that it always had when she discussed these things. He fluctuated in how he felt about it. On one hand, she seemed so fragile he was afraid to break her with the wrong word, touch anything. It's moments like those he wants to take her in his arms and love her, as if that would somehow mend her. But that, he always reminded himself, was not what she needed from him. On the other hand he wished she would let herself feel sad, afraid, happy, anything was better then her long silences and monotone voice.

He decided on neutrality. "Was he?"

"He told me. He said he was going to see how much I could take before I..." She trailed off. "I told that to Lela and she asked how it made me feel." There was a note of discontent in her voice. The asari social worker had started coming around to speak with Annika now and then. Annika had no guilt about disliking asari. Any of them.  
She also disliked batarians and krogans. Turians weren't all terrible and only some humans were bad. 

Garrus figured that after what she had been through he didn't begrudge her a bit of racism, but her disdain for asari was almost comical in it's intensity, or at least it would have been if he hadn't told him explicitly what her asari owners had done to her. "You know," he said softly, "she won't hurt you." 

Annika shrugged, "there's a doctor at the hospital who wants to use joining as a type of therapy. They say it would help me process memories." She let out a soft groan as Garrus pressed the heel of his hands into the muscles of her shoulders. He enjoyed it when she made those noises of pleasure. It made him absurdly proud.

"Are you going to do it?" He asked.

She looked thoughtful, "I don't want to." 

"Then," he said shortly, "don't." He made every effort to support her wishes. It was rare enough that she expressed them. Teaching her to think for herself was almost more challenge than he was willing to handle, but then he remembered that it was his own idiocy that had kept her down for a time- he owed it to her to help.

She sighed, "what do you think?"

"It's your decision. Your mind. I can't tell you what to do." This is where he always had to put his foot down. Left to her own devices she'd do as he asked every time with no questions asked. He wanted to teach her independence.

"Everything used to be so much easier." She said, a note of frustration in her voice.

"When you were a slave?" Garrus was surprised. She never gave opinions on her former life. She gave facts. On a good day she might tell him what had scared her or hurt her, but for the most parts she seemed to reguard her enslavement as a-moral at best. He had several frustrating conversations where she had insisted that owning sapient property was a normal facet of society, and that as property her owners had had the right to do as they pleased with her even of she hadn't liked it. 

Annika gave a hum of affirmation. "No one used to ask me to make decisions or tell them how I felt." She sneered out the last half of the sentence.

"Annika," Garrus soothed, "choice is a good thing."

"But there are so many," she pushed herself up, "and I don't want to make the wrong ones. When I was told what to do, I didn't have to think about right and wrong I acted as I was told immediately. I didn't...feel."

"Of course you did."

Annika curled up on the couch, laying a head on his shoulder. "I guess I did feel, but it didn't matter. It wasn't important."

He wrapped an arm around her, "you were just focused on survival."

"But I didn't think. I just..." She looked suddenly angry as she tried to explain but came up with no words. "Like with the krogan. I didn't want to die, but I couldn't change it. It just was as it was. What you can't prevent you must accept." 

She said that last part so often he wondered if that was one of the phrases they had brainwashed her with. He stroked her shoulder, "Never again." 

Her mouth twisted down, "I don't think I can do this."

"You can't go backwards."

"I thought I could do whatever I wanted."

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She was half smiling, but her eyes were still anxious. "ok, you got me. You can't do that." He smiled anyways because he liked it when she joked. She lifted a hand over her mouth and laughed softly. 

\-----

Annika had good days and bad days. 

On good days she would talk, let him touch her. She wouldn't flinch from him. She would even seek him out, curling up against his side and holding long conversations. Those were the days he could coax her out of the apartment and to restaurants or shops. She would still be edgy, jumping lightly to the side if any of her less favorite species came too close, but she would go.

More likely, she'd work on something, she was mastering the art of drone making. He'd be greeted by a glowing orb at the door, or find her sitting at a table taking apart and reassembling a weapon mod. She wasn't bad either. She had improved a couple of his scope mods one day. 

On bad days he'd come home to find her still curled up in bed. She would cringe at the slightest approach. It was as if she had vanished back into her memories. As if she was living in nightmares. He would do his best to keep her comfortable and soothe her, but in the end the best he could do was often simply to stay away and let her come to him.

Sometimes he set her off, he never meant to. The worst was the day Mogur came over. His batarian colleague had asked to borrow a holo and he had invited him in. He had forgotten Annika's rather extreme reactions to batarians. He didn't blame her, of course, but it was hard to remember that she didn't like most aliens when she was fine with him.

Mogur had been down the hallway to use the restroom when there was a prodigious crash. 

"Garrus," Mogur said from down the hallway, "call your human off."

He didn't know he could move across the apartment that fast. When he found them Annika was brandishing a share of mirror, her lips curled into a snarl. Mogur was standing a few feet away, an amused look on his face, as he held his hands half elevated.

"Annika?" Her eyes flitted from Mogur to him. "It's ok." 

She flinched as he moved towards her. A drop of blood fell from the hand she had used to smash the mirror and landed on the carpet.

He took another step, positioning himself between her and the batarian. He made a small motion with his hand and heard Mogur back away. She remained poised to attack. "Annika, c'mon. You know I won't hurt you." 

Her eyes were wide and transfixed on him. She must have surprised even herself joy attacking Mogur. Well, that made two of them. He reached slowly for the arm holding the glass. She let go of it before he could touch her. 

"I didn't mean-" she cut off and looked at her wounded hand, confused. 

Garrus crossed the distance between them to wrap his arms around her. It was, he reflected later, the first time she had stood up for herself against anyone.

"I couldn't stop. I just-" her hands tightened around his cowl.

It was unusual for her to cry like this. He couldn't remember it happening like this yet. She would sob aftera nightmare, but would regain her composure as soon as she was fully awake. Lela had warned him that when she did start to allow herself to feel strong emotions, they might be too strong. Whatever she was feeling now was beyond overwhelming. 

"You were afraid," he said.

"No. I was angry." 

He pushed her away and looked at her. She was still crying but her eyes were narrowed. She refused to look at him, "I was going to kill him." She stopped, "or maybe me."

"Anni?" He narrowed his eyes and studied her. She looked away from him, and when she looked back something in her expression had changed.

"I just wasn't going to let him take me."


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Series of one-shots

Really, Annika mused, this quarian woman should be calling her a stupid slave and telling her to leave. She should never have let Garrus see her fooling around with that stupid omnitool. The quarian's expression was unreadable inside the helmet, but she braced herself for a reminder to not aspire to position higher than she could attain.

Garrus was wrong to send her here.

"I'm sorry, I won't waste anymore of your time," she said, tilting her head to the left. She hadn't ever been able to rid herself of that habit.

The quarian glanced up sharply, "no. This is good. Very good. Can you code to?" 

Annika froze, "a little." She understood the basic patterns of the numbers and letters, but it still made only a little sense. She could barely spell her own name. 

The quarian shrugged, "I have an opening if you want the job. It's mostly fixing old tech and handling cranky morons who can barely put on an omnitool, but if you want it..." 

She let it dangle and held out a hand. Annika smiled and shook it.

"Call me Bhel. And you said your name was..?"

"Annika. Annika Shepard."

\--------

Annika's shoulders hunched over the datapad as she ran her fingers beneath the letters slowly. Her lips moved in a concentrated effort to create meaning from the symbols. They remained frustratingly foreign. 

When Garrus's fingers lightly brushed her shoulder she jumped a foot in the air.

He backed away, "sorry. you ok?" 

Annika pounded her fist on the book and cursed, "it's stupid!" 

She should never have started this whole dumb project. She wouldn't have, except that it was getting more difficult at work. Boxes were hard to distinguish on the basis of the few symbols she did know. For some reason, though, she hadn't expected reading to be difficult. She knew she had known how once. The knowledge itched like a mosquito bite in the middle of her back, just out of reach.

Garrus watched her, the plates above his eyes slightly raised. "I take it, this isn't going well?"

"Fuck this." The cursing was new, picked up from Bhel's extensive knowledge of inter-species profanity. Annika bowed her head, "I know it. It's there. I can feel it...but" she groaned, "I can remember every single beating, but I can't remember how to read. I can even remember the damn book."

"really?" Garrus sat across from her.

Annika nodded, "we were reading it in my class when the batarians attacked. There was this phrase, 'don't let the bastards grind you down'*. We used to shout it at each other whenever we saw each other in the training compound." Her smile faltered, "they did eventually though. Grind us down." She sighed again, "I just thought since I remembered it I could read it..but..." 

"But what?" 

"It's just... more of me that they stole." 

\-------

"I don't see how this will do any good." 

Garrus adjusted her arms, "up like this, to protect your face." 

"I am not comfortable with this." 

Annika felt Garrus bush a hand along her neck and took a shuddery breath. "Annika, trust me. You're safe."

"I know. I just-" 

He came around to her front again and nodded in approval, "you have to learn to defend yourself, Annika."

Annika grinned, "why? I have you."

"I might not always be around." 

She dropped the stance, folding her arms. She had thought about what it might be like if he left. Her job paid enough to support her fairly well and Behl had offered her a full time position if she wanted it.

But these days she wanted more than just survival and he was wrapped up in all that somehow. She didn't understand it, but he made her feel..more than safe, he made her feel at home. The feeling was terrifying and she tried not to think about it. She had known a girl once who had gotten similarly attached to an owner. When he sold her she had sobbed for days and nearly starved herself to death. Annika had never been so stupid. People paid to own her. It was about sex and power and status, not emotion. She was a whore and she'd never been anything but. 

Annika wondered if her emotional attachment to the turian was from actual need, or if she was mixing up her training with emotions. She hated this feeling that her thoughts weren't quite her own. She hated knowing that even if she could provide for herself, she wasn't capable of being completly on her own. At times the smallest decision made her feel as if she were drowning. Being able to put food on the table wasn't worth much if a grocery store was overwhelming. Even her job was Garrus provided. He thought she didn't know he had warned Behl about her volatile attitude towards batarians. She appreciated the help, it just hurt that she couldn't do anything for herself.

Lela had been honest, at least. She had told Annika that she might never be capable of living on her own. Of being solely dependent on herself. "But", the asari had added, "now you can choose who you follow." The tentacle head wasn't stupid, in fact, she had a point.

Annika had chosen. She liked following Garrus. "You promised you weren't going anywhere." 

Garrus kept eye contact, "I'm not going anywhere Anni, but I want to know you're safe. I'm going to make sure you can stand on your own."

She still hesitated and he punched her shoulder gently, "I don't want you to feel like you've got to bust a window every time a batarian walks in the house."

That did it. Annika returned the punch. Garrus blocked it easily. Since they had started these late night sparring sessions, Annika had gotten better, though she always protested at first. Mostly, she suspected Garrus went ridiculously easy on her. She had seen a layer of muscle starting to form on her arms where, before, they had been only boney. It made her feel powerful. Perhaps more useful, she had learned how to program weapons into her omni-tool after promising Garrus that she wouldn't point them at every batarian she saw.

She brought up an elbow, Garrus failed to block it. He didn't put much value on a fair fight. "The point is," he had told her that first night, "you walk away and the other guy doesn't, not who looks prettier. What's the point of a fair fight if you're dead?" 

He moved with the blow. It wasn't hard enough to hurt. "Nice." 

They moved around the makeshift sparring ring. Annika felt a surge of triumph when she managed a succesful take down even when Garrus hooked a leg behind her knee, Bringing her down on top of him. 

"You're getting better," he breathed in her ear. The hairs on her neck stood up and she shivered. 

"Do I get a reward?" 

His face grew serious as he stood. "I don't want into be like that."

"Like what?" 

"I don't want it to be a reward or a punishment, or some kind of exchange. I want it to be special. I want it to be about us."'

Annika furrowed her brow. "It doesn't work like that." She shrugged, "it just is what it is."

"It doesn't have to be like that."

"I don't understand." 

Garrus touched her chin, "that's the point Anni."

\--------

"I locked myself out of it again

Annika rolled her eyes and grinned, "this is exactly what you did yesterday. You should remember how."

"I know," The dark haired man leaned across the counter, " but show me how to get back in one more time. I'm quite absent minded."

Annika took the omnitool and demonstrated, "like that." 

Greg nodded, "easier than I thought." His hand brushed hers a moment as she passed him back his 'tool. "I'll be back tomorrow with another stupid question." 

From behind her Behl snickered. Annika tilted her head, "what?" 

Greg winked at her and turned for the door, "see you." 

Behl stopped containing herself as soon as he was out of earshot. Her peals of laughter filled the shop. Annika turned to her, "what? Why will he back tomorrow?" 

Bhel stopped laughing, "he was flirting with you." At Annika's shocked look she shook her head, "bosh'tet, don't you think someone might find you attractive?" 

Annika shook her head, "no. Not really." Attraction had never really figured into the equation. Slaves didn't have feelings of attraction either way and masters simply did as they wished with what was theirs. Flirtation was non-existant.  
"What about that turian you keep around. The one with the sexy deep voice?" 

Annika raised her hands, "he's not...it's not like that." 

"Than what is it like?" 

Annika shook her head, "honestly, I have no idea."

\---------

"Garrus!" 

Garrus looked up sharply, "what?" 

"I need medi-gel!" 

"Why?" Garrus rose from the couch and groaned, pressing a hand to the small of his back. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?" 

"No." Annika crouched behind the table bent over something wrapped in her jacket, "but he is. Where's the medigel?" 

Garrus walked over. A cat lay curled on the towel. It was a ragged, disgusting looking thing. It's buff colored fur was matted with blood and bare skin showed through the patchs. Eyes half open, it meowed weakly and made another sound as if it were trying to hiss. One of it's ears looked as if it had been torn nearly clean off. 

"What the hell is that?" 

"It's a cat!" Annika looked at him as if he were daft. "What the hell do you think it is?" 

"It's a mangy stray." 

Annika glared at him, "medigel. Now."

He had to hand it to her. She had grown in determination over the past few months. That look was positively cowing. "Fine! I'm going!"

When he returned a few minutes later Annika was crouched over the pitiful animal washing it with a rag and a bowl of hot water. It accepted her ministrations, but gave him a threatening look. Annika snatched the medi-gel without looking at him. 

"How-" 

"Do you think he'll be ok?" 

"What happened to him?" 

"Someone's mangy dog found him. Poor thing. I think he might have been injured before that." Her hands worked so quicklyover the cat they nearly blurred. "Do you think he'll live?"

Garrus put a hand on her shoulder and considered lying, "I- I don't know Annika. He looks pretty bad." 

She worked faster. "He could make it. You can be hurt pretty bad and still make it. If he gets some rest and someone takes care of him." 

She touched his ribs. They made pitiful looking bumps iron his skin. "He needs some food." 

Garrus nodded, "I'll head to the store."

When he returned the cat was cleaner, not prettier, but at least he wasn't covered in dirt and blood. Annika sat on the couch, stroking his fur as he slept on her lap. She looked up when he entered, "he fell asleep. I think he'll be ok." 

There were equal amounts of hope and fear in her voice. Garrus nodded, "there's food here when he wakes." For a moment he considered telling her the cat couldn't stay here, but she looked at with such tenderness.

"What are we naming it?"

Annika grinned, " Lucky."


	13. Chapter 13

Annika stretched out on the couch, cradling Lucky. He had gotten better over the past few weeks. At first he had done nothing but sleep and eat, now he had developed a habit of jumping on Garrus's heel spurs whenever the turian was home. Annika thought it was cute. Garrus did to, despite his complaints. 

She watched the movie on the TV in between reading poems. These bite sized pieces of literature were what she had finally started reading. It took her a pitifully long time. But after a few weeks of work it was getting better and she was managing more and more words. It felt like magic when she could decipher the letters without thinking too much.

The silence of the apartment was broken when Garrus burst in. She sat up. Lucky woke up with a meow and lept from her lap. Annika watched him go and turned, eyebrows raised, "thought you were working late."

"I need your help. There's a...a situation." Garrus leaned against the door frame catching his breath.

Annika stood and stretched, reaching for her jacket. She hesitated at the door. "How can I help with c-sec business?"

"There's a girl who was rescued from batarian slavers a few days ago." Garrus gestured impatiently but Anni stopped clutchinheartthrob door frame, heart pounding. "Wait. I think maybe- have you tried Lela?" 

Garrus turned and put a hand on her shoulder, "she won't let anyone near her. She stole a gun and holed herself up, someone needs to go in." 

"Why me?" 

"Do you really think she wants an asari right now?" 

Annika remembered the nurse from at first terrifying day in the hospital and the comforting drone of her voice. How it had been good to be looked after by someone of her own speicies. She looked at the ground, "what am I supposed to do?" 

"All we need is someone to get her to take a sedative." Garrus's voice had settled somewhere between rushed and soothing. She could see how much he needed her to do this. Annika glanced at her shoes.

"What do I say?"

Instead of replying Garrus lifted her hand and intertwined their fingers, his three with her five. "You can do this. If anyone can, you can. You know what she's going through." 

His voice was confident. He really believed in her. Annika voiced her last bit of resistance. "You said she had a gun?" 

"Some piece of crap she stole from one of the officers. We have a sniper with a bead on her."

"You're going to shoot her."

Garrus looked embarrassed, "it's policy. She's more of a danger to herself anyways." 

Annika squared her shoulders. "Ok, take me there."

On the way down Garrus gave her everything they knew. "We don't know her name." 

Annika shrugged, "she might not either. Slaves don't have names." 

"It sounds like," Garrus said as they hit the ground, "she might be as bad as you were. " 

Annika nodded and took a breath. "Where?"

Before she headed down the docking bay, Garrus stopped her. "Nothing's going to hurt you." 

Annika grimaced. There was something worse waiting for her down that docking bay than a girl with a gun."You only mean she won't shoot me."

Garry's opened his mouth, closed it, then stepped aside. "I'll be here when it's over. If you think she's a danger to you then radio me. We'll take her out."

Annika nodded and pushed past him. Her feet felt like lead. Each step hurt. She looked back over her shoulder once. Garrus was watching her with narrowed eyes. She resolved not to do that again. She was on her own out here.

"St- Stop!" The high pitched voice of a young girl stopped Annika in her tracks. She stayed perfectly still as the girl pointed the pistol at her. "Who? What are you?" 

Her head was shaved and her face was dirty. She looked as if she had been a laborer. Not that she would have been exempt from the rapes. Masters took what they wanted and laboring slaves were really only a poor batarian's whore anyways. Or at least, that was what she had heard. 

The girl had that tiny and half starved but strong look about her. Annika wondered if she had looked that frail when Garrus found her. Had she had the same bruises beneath her eyes? Had she looked so empty? Annika swallowed, trying to find the words to speak. "I'm Annika Shepard." She said finally. Her voice was hoarse and the words felt thick and clumpy. The gun stayed trained at her chest. Annika watched it. 

The girl shook her head. The gun waved back and forth. "Animals don't get names." Annika winced. She remembered being taught that. She held up her hands slowly, still watching the gun and reached for the zipper on her jacket. The girl watched her, but didn't move. Annika wondered if it would hurt if she was shot or if she would just be dead too quickly to notice. She pushed the jacket back off her shoulders, leaving the brand marks on her arm bare and half turning. The slave girl's eyes moved across her shoulder. She rocked from side to side, muttering under breath, before she spoke again, "The masters put symbols on her. Hot metal all over her back. She screams when they do it."

"I screamed to," Annika said after a moment. "They tie you down for it. So you can't move." Her heart pounded against her chest. She didn't want to talk about those events. She wanted to forget them. She met the girls eyes for a brief moment, they were startlingly blue, but the girl looked away. "They keep you in a cage," she continued. Her voice was soft but steady. "It's always dark, because they don't let you above ground until you break." The girl watched her closely but the gun was limp at her side now. "They tell you you're an animal but they lie. You have a name."

The girl's knees bent as she half crouched, the gun came halfway back up. "Talitha," she said. "They used to call her that. She doesn't remember the rest." She fully lifted the gun back upand leveled it at Annika's chest. "Leave her alone!"

Annika held up her hands again. For a brief moment she considered signaling the sniper. She didn't like the gun pointing at her. Then she remembered the way Garrus and Delanus had charged that krogan for her. He had pinned her against the wall, almost choked her out and then wanted sucked off. She had been bruised, and starved and she remembered thinking that she would have been surprised to last another two or three days. She remembered feeling part of one of her ribs shifting in a very wrong way. And then two Turians had appeared like angels. 

Annika tried to meet the girls eyes again, "how did you get here?" 

Talitha moved back, pressing herself into the wall "she can't escape." 

Annika shook her head, "no, you can't," she agreed, "They keep you chained and they hurt you if you try anything. They have chains and wires and needles." Her chest ached. She didn't want to talk about this. "They lock you in the dark." Her voice choked off. She took a long breath, regained herself. "So how did you get here?"

"Animals come. Animals like her. Animals with guns." Talitha's gun was back at her side. Her shoulders slumped as she relived the moment. "They make the masters explode," she said. Talitha's hands shook. 

"She tries to fix the masters,To fix them, so they won't be mad at her! They're always mad. she puts all the reds and purples back in but…but they don't move..." Talitha's voice trembled out into a sob.

Annika winced. She had never developed an attachment to her masters. She had heard of it happening, especially to slaves that were taken when they were very young. 

"Then the other animals take her…" Talitha met her eyes for the first time. She see,Ed to have forgotten who was holding the gun in this situation. Her body was half bent in submission. Annika took a step forward. Talitha flinched. 

"My family was on Mindoir." She dropped her eyes, "I was too. They killed all of them and took me." At least, she hoped they were dead. It had been hard, she had gathered, to get information on who had been killed and who was a survivor. She didn't want to think of the vague memories of the soft, warm, kind people who had been her family being taken and broken. 

Talitha lunged forward, teeth bared animal-like in her rage. "Lying! You're lying! "They hit you for lying. Get the buzz. Or the burning. Can't be there! Why are you alive?" Tears streamed down the woman's face. Annika winced. She shouldn't be. She should be dead and grave-less. Rotting in some sewar. "Why aren't you—why aren't you like her? Broken? Only fit to dig and carry?"

Annika looked at the ground, "I am, Talitha. You just can't see it. I lost everyone. Everything." She rubbed the bridge of her nose, "and then they took me. I can't even remember everything that..." Her voice became tight and strangled again. "The point is that you have a new chance now. You have to stand back up."

"You lose your mommy and daddy?" Her voice was soft. 

"Yes," Annika took a step towards her. The gun sprang back up and she sighed in frustration. 

"no! She's no good! She doesn't want to be handled again!" 

Annika held up her hands. "Ok, ok." She took a step back. Half as far as the step forward. 

"I did lose my parents. They burned. I think. A brother too. He was trying to protect me."

Talitha considered this, "they melted." 

"Yes." 

"There was fire. She pretends to be dead, so she doesn't have to work. She hopes they'll leave…but they know…they know. She didn't fight." 

Annika sized her up, "you were what? Six? They might have killed you. It sure wouldn't have done any good. I fought and they still got me. No one can blame you." Garrus had taught her that. No one blamed her for breaking. Anyone would have, he had told her night after night when she woke screaming. It was strange to do the same for someone else. Strange, but right. 

"She wants to believe that." Talitha's voice was barely over audible, especially over the pounding in her own ears. She pushed her feelings to the side. "She wants to believe nothing would change. She doesn't want to be there anymore. In the pens...In the cages. Lying quiet while they do things to her." Again, the two women's eyes met and Annika took a step towards her. She nodded, "I know." A hot, wet tear slipped down her cheek. "Me to."

"When she thinks, water comes out of her eyes to." 

"So you don't," Annika filled in. "You forget because it's safe. It doesn't hurt if you don't remember what it was like before it hurt."

Talitha nodded, her expression shocked. "The masters beat her when she wastes water."

She looked around, nervously. 

"They won't find you here," Annika said.

Talitha relaxed. The gun was long forgotten again, dropped at her side. Occasionally she brought her hand up to rub the side of her face. She seemed oblivious to the fact that she was still holding the weapon.

"She sees them. Mommy and Daddy...Burning in white light…melting. Going to p-pieces. They can't even say anything to her…they're dead. Can she stop remembering now? Please?"

Annika took a final step towards her, "for now." She produced the pills and held them out. "These will make you sleep so they can take you to a place where you can get better." She touched the girls hand and gripped the pistol, setting it on a nearby crate. Talitha didn't seem to notice. Talitha jerked away, "don't touch her. She's dirty. You'll catch it." 

Annika shrugged, "me too, Talitha."

Talitha gulped the pills down dry in a sudden rush of courage. 

Annika tried not to flinch as Talitha's frail body hurtled towards her, and her arms latched around her in an embrace. She felt the saltwater tears dropping onto her shirt and soaking through to her shoulder. Hesitantly she put her arms around the girl. "It's ok," she repeated what Garrus told her when she woke at night, "you're safe now." She took a deep breath. This was not a good time to fall apart. "When you wake up, you'll be somewhere safe."

Talitha's legs gave way and Annika guided her to the ground. "Will she have bad dreams?" 

Annika swallowed, she wouldn't lie. "Maybe. But when you wake up, you'll be warm and safe." 

Talitha smiled as Annika laid her down. "I'd like that. It hurts when she...when I remember me."

She was asleep now. Her eyelashes fluttered. Annika fell back on her heels. "I know."


	14. Chapter 14

When they arrived back at the apartment Annika collapsed onto the couch. She felt exhausted, as if she had just run miles and miles. Garrus sat next to her, from the corner of her eyes she could see him watching her. She swallowed, "was I that bad when you found me?" 

Garrus tilted his head and considered the question, "in some ways," he said finally, "you weren't that bad. In others you were much worse." 

Annika nodded. She had never tried to put the krogan back together when Garrus and Delanus took him out. She had to admit, though, she had never tried to fight him when he choked her either. She would have let him kill her with little protest.

_In the pens, at night, they do things to her._

Annika shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself. The room felt cold and she felt alone, even with Garrus so close. "She didn't deserve to be there. To have all that happen." Annika mused. 

"Neither did you." 

Annika flinched. "Sometimes it felt good." 

"That doesn't make any difference. 

"Doesn't it?"

"No." His voice was firm and uncompromising. Annika glanced at her folded hands. It was true that it had felt good sometimes. Some of her masters had made her feel loved even. It made distinguishing reality- what she really wanted and deserved- difficult.

"When I first came here, with you I thought having sex with you would make you keep me." Annika sighed, "I thought that if I was good and I made you happy you wouldn't sell me. My time was limited on the market." 

"What do you mean?" Garrus raised his brow. 

"No one wants an ugly slave." Annika glanced down at the cross crossing lines of white scar tissue on her arms. "I was getting too marked up. But when that krogan-" she stopped and shook her head, "I knew I didn't want to die then."

Garrus reached dout and touched her shoulder. She could sense his hesitation, he didn't want to scare her. She held perfectly still until his hand brushed her cheek. She leaned against it. "You aren't ugly." 

Annika thought about some of the men who came to her shop and shook her head with a laugh, "maybe not. I still think most men would run if they saw it all." She gestured to her brand marks. "I'm not, I'm..." She trailed off. 

"You're what you are," Garrus brushed a strand of hair back from her cheek, "you're smart, and you're damned tough. You survived a hell of a long time."

Annika looked away, "I'd be dead if it hadn't been for you."' She made a sound of utter frustration, "is this really what you want? To spend your time with a broken woman who can't function properly without you?" 

Garrus chuckled, "give yourself some credit Annika. Think about how far you've come. Give it time." 

"I want more for us." The words tumbled out and she put a hand over her mouth, shocked. 

Garrus took a deep breath and looked at her critically. "Do you still think we have to have sex for me to be happy?" 

"no. I could walk out that door and not come back if I wanted to." She shrugged, "I can't be on my own, but Lela said there are some options for me if I wanted them."

"Do you want to?" 

Annika shook her head, "no. I like this. I like you being here with me." She moved closer to him and he let out a breath. 

"That's good."

Annika smiled and then dropped her head into her hands, "what are we Garrus?" 

Garrus grimaced, "you stopped acting like a slave a long time ago." 

It had been nearly six months since the night she had run off into the streets of the lower wards. Almost a year since her last master had died. She asked, "I want to work for more, but for now, I need-" she could feel tears prickling at the corner of her eyes. She looked away blinking. 

Garrus touched her shoulder and she leaned into his chest, "can we start here?" She kissed the side of his jaw and worked her way towards his mouth. His tongue flicked out brushing against hers. It was an awkward kiss, but wrapped in his arms she felt warm and safe. She felt not alone.

Garrus pulled away after a while, "Alright Anni, but we take it slow."


	15. Chapter 15

The sky was blue as cotton candy and the scenery looked like something straight out of an alliance propoganda ad for colonists. Turian and woman stood hand in hand on the side of the hill, looking at the tiny settlement. 

"It doesn't look like what I remember," Annika mumbled.

Garrus turned her toward him. "it's been a long time. They rebuilt a lot of it." He studied her face, "where would you like to go?" 

Annika gestured towards a marble wall on the outskirts of the settlement. As they rambled towards it, a few colonists watched them go. Not many visitors came to Mindoir. 

"I think I lived somewhere near here." She gestured towards an old tree. "I remember a tree like that. Someone fastened a tire swing to it, but when the batarians came they put it around someone's neck and set it on fire."

"You remember that?"

"I remember the way he screamed."

Garrus cringed, he had been hoping to help her find happier memories here. He hoped he hadn't been mistaken to bring her out here, to Mindoir."What else?" 

She hesitated and pointed to a large rock, "I was over there when the batarians caught me. John tried to stop them, so they burned him." Her voice was flat and emotionless. " 

"That was your brother. You remember anything about him?" 

"He had brown hair and green eyes, like mine." 

Garrus closed his eyes and took a deep breath, she was shutting down, but he couldn't force her to feel something. When he looked up she was a few yards away. he followed, trying to give her whatever space she needed to sort through all of this. Annika stopped in a large clearing and glanced around. "This is where they penned us." She shut her eyes. "I was babysitting when they came and she- the child- was still with me. I tried to hold on to her. I was supposed to protect her. They took her and then they- they...and then they-" 

Whatever was passing through her mind was too much to talk about. Her chest heaved in a burst of panic. Her wide eyes roamed the field, seeing people long gone. Garrus reached out slowly, "Anni, it's ok. It's over. Come back." 

She rubbed a hand down her face and let out a breath. With her other hand she grabbed his and nodded, "I'm ok...I just..."

"It's alright. Do you want to go?" 

Anni shook her head, "I want to see the memorial wall first."

"Are you sure?" 

"I want to find them."

They walked off together toward the marble wall, beneath a large arbor. Vines grew around it, twining in an out of the wood. When they reached it Annika traced her finger along the wall running it along the names. Occasionally she stopped her lips forming around a word, testing the sound. 

Finally she rested on the names. Hannah Shepard, Richard Shepard, Annika Shepard, and John Shepard. Annika traced them for a long time before she started to talk. 

"My...my mother used to cook. She liked to make barbecue. Dad and John both played guitar, but they said I was kind of tone deaf. I was good with machines and computers though. Before the batarians, the alliance had offered me a full ride for college. I was going to take it."

"What else?" He knelt beside her and she leaned against him. 

"I miss them."

He wrapped an arm around her and held her close to his chest. "I know."


	16. Chapter 16

They had started slowly enough. Kissing had led to fooling around. Both of them wanted more, but it was moments like this that made their relationship difficult. Anni straddled his lap, but her breath was strange and measured and her eyes looked vacant. Both of their shirts were off. it was farther then they got most days, but it was destined to end here today. He moved his hands from her wast and leaned back, "Hey." 

Annika blinked and focused on him for a moment, "I did it again." She moved off of him and away, sitting just far enough away to not be touching him.

The frustration on her face was evident. He process of going from work to love making hadn't been easy for her. In fact, they were still working at it. He had learned to pick up on the small hints that she wasn't entirely with him. Her eyes would go out of focus and her body would tense. As much as he wanted her, he didn't want to continue unless she was really there with him. 

He stood and stretched, "do you want a drink?" She nodded and he walked to the kitchen to get beer. 

When he came back, she wassn't ting propped against some pillows. She was still shirtless and she was tracing a scar on her abdomen. She looked up, when he entered. "Are you frustrated?" She asked. 

He handed her a drink and she took a long sip, "not really. I'd prefer you to be comfortable." 

"I'm not used to anyone caring whether or not I'm comfortable." 

"I know." He pulled her against his shoulder and she nuzzled against his plates.

She thought about that, "you know, there are probably women of many species who would make all of this a lot easier for you." 

"I know," he took a drink, "but I'd prefer you. I like you."   
She smiled , her eyes lighting up and she kissed him. "Good." She looked in his eyes, "we'll figure this out." 

He nodded, "we won't do anything you aren't ready for." 

Anni made a sound of frustration, "why did they do this? They took..everything." Her voice rose and her fists clenched, "and now I can't even have what I want."

Garrus reached for her hand and enveloped it in his own. She gripped it just hard enough to hurt a bit.

"We'll get it back. Together."


	17. Chapter 17

"Annika, can you take the counter. I'm going to grab lunch."

Annika glanced up from where she sat bent over a piece of salvage in the back room. "Yes," She pushed her chair back and stood, stretching, "I'm on my way." 

When she arrived out Behl grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder. "Look, there's been a batarian outside. I've been waiting for him to leave for an hour. I don't think he'll come in." She hesitated, "I can send you out if you'd prefer." 

Annika followed her gaze to the batarian across the hall. He glanced in the store and looked away. He didn't look familiar. "I'll be ok." 

Behl paused, "I'll go out and be right back."

"I'll be here." Annika swallowed despite her dry mouth. "Go."

Behl left and Annika settled into the chair behind the register. The quarian disappeared from sight. Annika reminded herself of what Garrus had said. Not all batarians were bad. He was probably just waiting for someone and he'd leave soon enough.

She took a steadying breath and brought up her omni-tool. There was nothing to worry about. Everything was normal. There was the sound of the motions enter of the door going off and she glanced up and flinched backwards. The batarian was coming inside.

Bracing herself against the counter, Annika considered calling Garrus. Maybe she should page Behl. She could just tell him they were closing. 

"Do you have the new Savant model?" 

Annika heard herself stammer out a yes. She rummaged through the counter case and pulled out the model, handing him the box. Her eyes stayed instinctively downcast and she barely glanced up through her lashes. He studied the specs on the side of the of for a few minutes and then shrugged.

"What do you think?" 

"I-it's a g-good model." She tried to still the quaver in her voice. He handed it back to her and she reached for it. Normally, at work she wore jackets and long sleeves. She didn't like the feeling of people staring at her scars. Garrus said it was all in her head but she had her doubts. Now, she realized with a start, she had taken her jacket off in the back room and left it there. The batarian's eyes raked along her arm and she withdrew her hand holding the omni-tool.

"Anything else?" She asked. 

He lifted an eyebrow and gazed down at her and she bent her head to the left on instinct. A sign of respect for a superior caste. 

"That will be all." 

She heard him leave and sagged against the counter, panting. Her knuckles turned white and she pressed her forehead to the glass. Had he recognized her? Shit, he was going to come back. She couldn't go back. She couldn't. She'd die if they tried to make her slave again. 

Maybe, Annika thought, she could call Garrus. He would come down here and make sure it was all ok. 

No. No.

She needed to do this herself. It wasn't fair to him to call him down here for no reason. She needed to prove she was just fine on her own. She might care for him, but she needed to start standing on her own two feet. 

She resolved to forget the incident, but when she looked up, the batarian was still watching her. 

\-----

 

When the world came into focus Annika was on the dirty floor of a dingy apartment. It didn't say anything about her captors, she had served higher ranking officials before who kept her hidden in places like this to avoid the law. Annika groaned and started to push herself to her knees. She needed to find a way out, and to get home. Something hard and smooth shifted on her neck and she groaned. A training collar.

"That's right girl." 

Annika glanced up at the batarian. He squatted down beside her and reached for her face. She moved away trying to tell him to stay away, but only managing a feral growl. Her head pounded at the movement. The batarian shook his head and activated the collar. Annika collapsed into a heap whimpering. She had forgotten what this felt like. 

She had been walking home from work when they found her. That damned batarian who had come into the shop earlier and he had brought a friend. Annika castigated herself for not calling Garrus. She had just thought she was over reacting again. 

She had managed to contact Garrus before they had pressed a gun to her head. She had been forced to tell him she was coming home late, and then they had smashed her 'tool.

"Look at me, girl." 

Annika turned her head towards the batarian. He reached for her chin jerking her head upwards. "Good girl. Back where you belong. How did you get all the way out here?" 

She worried her lip, trying to squelch the feeling of terror. The batarian smoothed her hair back and Annika fought the urge to vomit. She wanted to run, to sink into the floor, to stop existing. "You can answer," she batarian said continuing what she was sure was meant to be a soothing action. It reminded her of how she had soothed Lucky when he was still recovering from his injuries. 

"I- " she stopped herself and took a deep breath. The batarian was watching her with narrowed eyes. "She has a turian master. He expects her home tonight."

The batarian scowled, "no. You escaped a year ago from a krogan master. I don't like Liars, slave." 

The coller was activated again and Annika screamed as the intensity was cranked up. When it was over she pressed her forehead to the ground. Her bluff hadn't worked. "Garrus is going to kill you," she rasped. 

"Is he? I don't think he knows where you are." Annika looked away and the batarian chuckled, "that's right, girl. You know where you belong." His hand trailed down her cheek towards her neck to her collarbone. He stopped at the neckline of her shirt, playing with it. "You know what you are." 

She stiffened and tried to pull away. "I don't want- " 

The grip on her coller tightened, "I don't care what you want, slave."'the batarian leaned in close enough that she could smell the stink of his breath,feel the rough callouses of his fingers as they dug into her shoulder and her breast. 

The indignity of it overflowed and she moved quickly, head butting the batarian. He tumbled backwards holding his nose and she lunged at him, ready to bite, or claw, or hit, whatever she had to do. 

She aimed her fingers for his eyes, but he turned his head, groping for the controller of her coller. Annika slammed a fist into his side, but the batarian leveraged his strength rolling on top of her. Annika half lifted herself and her teeth snapped closed around his ear. She tasted metallic blood on her tongue and spat out flesh. The momentary pause as the batarian recoiled in pain allowed her to roll again, landing on top of him. Annika stumbled to her feet and took off running. 

She tripped but her hand closed around a datapad. She stumbled back to her feet , lunging through the door to the bedroom. She leaned against it, pressing a series of codes on the locks and muttering pleas under her breath. The lock turned red. Annika allowed herself two long deep breaths before she examined the datapad. If she could connect it to the extranet...

The screen turned to static for a moment as she hacked it. When it cleared she breathed a sigh of relief. She typed in a code and pressed enter. The lock turned green and she kicked the datapad under the bed. 

Please, please, please...she begged in her head that this would work. She could hold out a little longer if she had to, but she couldn't be a slave again. 

The doors swished open and Annika fell to her knees pressing her forehead to the ground. "I'm sorry," she sobbed, "I'm sorry." It was only half acted. Raw terror coursed through her veins. This batarian had the power to kill her if tears didn't move him and there was only a small chance she could fight him off. 

The batarian had used medigel on his ear in the few minutes that had passed, stemming the tide of blood. Annika dared to look up from beneath her lashes. "Please, master, mercy." The words were bitter in her mouth, but she needed him to not kill her where she knelt. She looked back down at the floor. The only sound she heard was her own heavy breathing. When the batarian stroked her hair again she tried not to flinch. Instead she shuddered. 

"I know it's hard. I know. It's been a while since you did your duty, huh?" Annika forced herself to steady her breathing, "yes master." 

"But you've been wicked, and unwise. You understand, girl, what happens to bad slaves?" He cupped her chin so she was looking up at him again. 

Annika swallowed, "please...I- she won't-" 

The batarian's hold on her face tightened and Annika drew a shakey breath, "she must be punished."

"It'll be five for trying to run and ten because you drew blood. Then I'll begin re-training you." 

Annika dared a glance under the bed. The screen of the datapad was still alight. Hopefully, that meant her trick was going to work. She heard the snap of leather and cringed. This was going to be unpleasant. 

Hurry. Please hurry. 

The batarian stepped out of her line of sight and she tensed, waiting for the blow. "You will count." 

Annika clenched her teeth. The whip cracked through the air. Annika's arms gave way and she groaned. "One." 

By the fourth strike there was blood dripping down her back and each hit made her shriek in pain. The whip swung through the air again. Annika was braced for it. There was some other emotion building in her chest. 

Rage. She was better then this. At one time, she could have taken this and more. But the past year had left her changed.

Annika rolled to the side, and the whip caught her across the shoulder, the tip cutting into her face. Blood dripped into her eye. She shot to her feet, shoulder down and charged the batarian again, screaming. Her legs felt unsteady and her body exhausted from fear and pain, but anger was eclipsing it all. 

They went down again rolling on the ground. She aimed for his eyes. Teeth bared and hands groping at his face. He rolled on top of her and she screamed as her bloodied back was crushed into the floor. The world went hazy. His forearm landed across her throat and the batarian tore at the clasp of her jeans with his other hands. "You little bitch. I'll kill you after."

Annika gasped for breath. The world went fuzzy before her eyes and she let out a sobbing half breath. She was going to suffocate if he kept up.

"You will submit!" The batarian growled as he ripped at her shirt. Annika let out a terrified sob and brought a knee into his crotch and grabbed at his wrist. It worked. The batarian rolled off of her, the omnitool flew into the air, and she gasped for air. The burning in her lungs eased. 

Both of them looked at the omni-tool. She saw it in his eyes as he realized what she wanted. Both of them groped for the 'tool. For a moment, a shining moment, she thought she'd reach it first. Then he pressed a hand into her shoulder, the palm of his hand grinning into a wound, and she screamed in agony. Her vision blurred and darkened as pain took over, but she managed to keep the omni-tool in her sights. She reached a hand out, felt the cool object in it and rolled, slipping it onto her wrist. The blade jutted out. 

Annika didn't think, she didn't have enough time to hesitate. She ran on pure terror as she lunged, driving the knife into his belly and twisting. The batarian jerked and choked. Blood poured from his mouth. Annika pulled out the blade and staggered backwards. The batarian swayed. For a moment, she thought he was going to lunge again. 

The crack that resounded through the room made Annika stagger backwards. Had she been shot. She couldn't find a wound, but there was so much blood on her. So much blood. It ran down her face from the wound above her eye and she could hardly see. 

"Annka? Anni?" 

It took Annika a few minutes to register that the voice was Garrus. He kept his gun trained on the batarian, who had collapsed to the floor as he crossed the room. She looked into his blue eyes and felt tears spring into her own. "Are you hurt?" He asked. 

The batarian wasn't moving. Annika found her voice, "I'm ok." Garrus looked at her out of the corner of his eye and nodded. He approached the body and leaned down. "He's dead."

He holstered his gun and turned to her. "How did you manage it?" 

Annika took a long breath, "I rigged the datapad to send you homing signal and hoped." 

Garrus crossed to her and pulled her to his chest. Annika hissed in pain as his hands touched her back. Garrus moved back, "what did he do?" 

"It's nothing. I-I've had worse."

Garrus gave her a look that said he wasn't satisfied. He crossed to the batarian body again and stared down at it. Then, with a growl of anger he pulled his gun again and sent four bullets into the batarians head, through its eyes. Annika recoiled in horror. Garrus studied his work and nodded before he turned back to her. He pulled off his tunic and draped it around her shoulders. 

"Wonder who that bastard was." Garrus mused as he guided her out towards the hover car.


	18. Chapter 18

When his 'tool buzzed Garrus hadn't thought to check the message for a few moments. He had noticed a strange tone in Annika's voice but had pushed it to the back of his mind. She would tell him if anything was really wrong. It wasn't until he realized the chirping wasn't stopping that he pushed aside the papers on a turian spectre that just seemed off to him and checked the 'tool. It was just a blinking dot on a map. Three long blinks, three short repeating. 

He had a bad feeling about this. Within a few minutes he was out the door and starting up his hover car. It was, thankfully, not far away in one of the lower wards. When Garrus arrived, he abandoned the car parked in two spaces. Something was wrong about this. The apartment building looked mostly empty, but when he burst through the door from upstairs he heard a scream of fear and pain. He would recognize Annika's voice anywhere. He took the stairs two at time and felt like he set a personal record getting the door unlocked. 

When Garrus walked in, gun drawn, he heard another scream of pain from the next room. By the time the door to the bedroom opened he was looking at Annika twisting a knife into a batarians torso. As soon as she stumbled backwards he took the shot. 

It wasn't until he realized that she was injured that he felt angry. He had reached out to touch her and she had grimaced and let out a pained breath. He had felt almost out of control when he shot the batarians eyes out, and when he turned back he could see pain and terror on her face. Garrus took a deep breath, he could be angry later. For now, the important thing was to get her home.

As Garrus pulled the tunic around Annika's shoulders he could feel her shaking. He could see the whip laying half coiled on his floor, and from the tattered remains of her shirt and the bloody gashes on her back, surmise what happened. He took a deep breath, forcing his fury to dissapate.

Annika winced again as he pulled the garment around her shoulders but pulled it tighter anyways. She glanced one more time at the body on the floor. He moved in front of her, blocking the view and put an arm around her shoulders as gently as possible. 

With the immediate threat gone she had started to shake, and by the time they had made it to the car she was having trouble standing. He pressed his forehead to hers again, "it's over. You're safe." 

Annika nodded, but remained silent. 

He got in the drivers side, trying to decide where to take her. For a moment, he considered taking her to the hospital. He shook his head, that wouldn't work. She'd be asked a lot of questions, maybe even forced to defend herself in court. He turned towards the apartment. Annika was silent for the entire ride. He reached over to find her hand and she gripped his so tightly he winced. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She was looking down, blood dripping from the tip of her nose. What was she thinking? Her silence was terrifying. It reminded him of when he had first brought her home. Back then it had been a mark of her fear, what was it now?

When they arrived back Garrus guided her inside. She kept her head down, hiding her gashed face. As soon as the doors had closed behind the he steered her towards the couch. Annika sat. He hesitated, he needed to get medical supplies but he didn't want to leave her even for a moment. Eventually he managed to leave her moving at a slight jog to gather the medigel and run warm water in the tub.

When he returned she was tugging at a metal circlet around her neck, the width of her finger. A collar. He had put a collar on her like some kind of animal. Garrus forced himself to stay calm. His fury would do nothing to reassure Annika. He reached out and touched the device, but Annika moved backwards, breathing in sharply. 

Garrus hesitated, "it's me Anni."

She looked up at him and nodded, her lips moved soundlessly. When he touched her again, she didn't move away. He pressed a few buttons, hacked the lock and it came off. She took a deep breath of relief. Garrus touched her chin and tilted her face upwards. The gash on her face wasn't deep, but it had been bleeding heavily. She winced as he applied the medigel, the antiseptic stinging her, as it closed the wound. It cleaved her eyebrow in two and, still looked raw and bruised around the edges. He ran his thumb along the side of it. Annika shut her eyes. Garrus felt as if he was watching her fade before his eyes. 

"I need to see your back," he said, he touched her shirt. 

Annika lay on her stomach and let him cut away the rags of her shirt and bra. As he examined the gashes on her back he tried not to visualize the coiled whip on the floor cutting into her flesh. He had already had to listen to her muffled cries as he ran up the steps of the building. Those sounds might haunt him for the rest of his life.

Garrus was gentle as he applied medigel, but every now and then Annika would let out a soft gasp or groan. He finished as quickly as he could. He hated to see more scars added to her already sizeable collection. How the hell had she survived? Humans were so soft, who would have thought they could take a beating like this. And Annika had admitted to having worse. He wished he had been the one to get the last shot at that batarian, but by the time he had entered and gotten a clear shot Annika had already ripped his belly open. He knelt beside her and touched her arm. "Talk to me, Anni." 

Lucky crawled into her lap and she gripped him compulsively. Her eyes were wide. "I didn't think- I thought it was just my imagination." She touched one of the red welts on her neck. "I had forgotten what it felt like." She started to shiver again, "and you-" she moaned and covered her face in her hands. "You shot him. There was so much blood." 

It occurred to Garrus that, barring the first time he had seen her, she had never seen him draw his gun, never seen any violence. The side of him that others saw the most had been completely hidden from Anni. He paused reaching towards her slowly. She didn't move away, but she watched him closely. He pulled her towards him and she let him pull her into his chest. "You're safe. It's over." 

He lifted her and carried her to the bathroom.she was caked in blood and sweat and dirt and there were tear tracks down her cheeks. He started to leave, giving her privacy, but she grasped at his arm. "Don't leave." He hesitated and then nodded. She moved slowly, half in shock and half sore. The cuts on her back had faded to angry looking welts and one of her eyes was bruised. She sank into the tub with a sigh. "Can you clean my back?" 

Annika leaned forward folding her arms around her breasts and hunching her shoulders. He washed her back gently and something about the process seemed to help. Her muscles relaxed and she started to breathe more easily. He hesitated, "can I wash your hair?" Annika nodded. It was a distinctly turian thing to do, and despite the desire, he had never asked before. Her shampoo smelled of vanilla and when he rubbed it, massaging her scalp she let out a sigh of pleasure.

When she was clean he drained the tub and wrapped a towel around her. Annika gripped it around herself. She leaned into his side as he helped her into a long t-shirt.  
Looking at her, he realized she was still half in shock. For a moment the feeling that he had almost lost her, that he might lose her yet broke over him and he wrapped her in his arms.

She curled into him, a sob wracking her body as she sank to her knees. He held her letting her vent her emotions. Her tears were hot on his chest. Garrus wasn't sure how long they sat there on the bathroom floor as Annika finally broke down and wept. When she finally calmed, taking long shuddering breaths, he finally allowed himself to ask questions. "Tell me what happened." 

He helped her up and led her towards the bedroom. She leaned against him. Her hand clung to his arm as if letting him go meant that she would never see him again. Garrus couldn't say that he minded. 

They sat on the edge of the bed and she began to talk. She got through the batarian in the store before he interjected. "You didn't call me?" He felt put out. She telyed on him for protection; she should have called. Annika looked away, "I thought it was my imagination, I didn't want to call you over nothing."

"Annika-"

"I threatened your friend with a piece of glass. I don't like feeling...stupid." 

He had to chuckle at the memory. Mogur had shrugged it off, but Anni had been embarrassed about it for days. "It's not stupid, Anni. Next time, call me."

She looked back at him, "there won't be a next time." 

Garrus raised his brow plates. Annika looked at him as if he were missing something obvious, "what you did to that batarian." He shrugged and her fingers dug into his arm, "there were two of them that found me. Only one of them is dead and you mutilated the body. His friend will find try to find me. He won't stop until I'm dead."

Garrus nodded slowly, he knew about the batarian belief that after death the body left the soul through the eyes and that mutiliation of the eyes was a serious crime in the eyes of hegemony. He had been too furious to think about anything except for revenge back at the apartment. The son of a bitch had already been dead and that was the best he could do. "Then you'll stay here until I can hunt him down. We'll talk to Behl. She'll have to understand."

Annika nodded reluctantly. He didn't blame her for not wanting to stay cooped up in here. He wasn't crazy about the idea of her staying in the one bedroom flat. She had outgrown it long ago. "We'll find him. How did they kidnap you?" 

Annika described an ambush in the ally behind the building and Garrus wondered if it was even safe to be here. They could have guessed where she was living. They could come back. He decided, for the sake of keeping Anni calm, it was best not to mention it and just sleep close to his gun tonight. "Did they-"

"They didn't rape me," she shuddered, "they were going to." 

"They didn't. You stopped them." He kissed a bruise on her collarbone. "You're safe."

Annika nodded. "I let him beat me. He made me count." Garrus felt a surge of disgust. Annika seemed to notice and shook her head, staring at their intertwined fingers. "I was so scared and I thought I could stall him and I knew I could take it. I've had worse before. But then...I was so angry."

He lifted her chin. "That's my girl. You had him when I walked in the door. You made him pay."

Annika's expression was uneasy, "I didn't mean to kill him."

Garrus registered that she might not be ok with killing, even if her life was in danger but she had to understand the necessity of her actions. "If you had done nothing," he pressed, "and I had been late, what would have happened?" Annika jerked away from him, folding her arms. "What would have happened Anni?"

She pursed her lips, "he would have beaten me and raped me and either kept me as sex slave or sold me for labor in a mine somewhere. I wouldn't have survived long either way."

There was an bitter quality in her voice he didn't understand until she added, "I'd kill myself before I let myself go back to that."

Garrus grimaced, a sudden picture of her dead on the floor ofthe bedroom, wrists slit with broken glass flashed to mind. "that won't be neccesary. I would have found you." He grasped her shoulders and met her eyes, "you are safe."

"Ok."

Garrus nodded, reassured. 

"I had forgotten what it was like," Annika's voice was soft. "To be abused or forced or treated like...like...I just forgot. I thought I would never see you again."

He stroked her hair, "you should rest. I'll stay right here"

Annika shook her head and leaned in close. Before he could fully process her mouth was on his, hungry and desperate. He pushed her back as gently as possible. "Anni?" 

"Please," she said, stroking his jaw. She kissed him again and Garrus could feel his own stress melting away at the taste and scent of her. He had almost lost her. Almost. But he hadn't. His hands wandered to her waist and he pulled away one last time, "are you sure?" 

Annika pressed her body against his. "Yes." 

He gave in. 

It was different from the very beginning. Before he had reflected that it seemed as if she were holding back something of herself. Now, he saw his own feelings reflected back when their eyes met- tenderness and trust and relief that they hadn't lost each other. Their movements were slow and measured. Annika was almost timid, letting him take the lead this time. Instead of lusty moans and seductive smiles there were quiet gasps and half parted lips. Garrus had the distinct feeling that this was a more real Annika. He felt a surge of pride in her. She had come so far and fought so hard. 

He kissed her and she arched up into him. He lost himself in the smoothness of her skin, the salty taste of her sweat. When they came it was together, Anni's head buried in his neck and her breath hot against his skin. He held her for a long time, cradled to his chest. One of her legs draped possessively over his. For the second time that night, her tears landed on his plates, but there was something different about these tears. They weren't from fear or even relief, but for, healing. So he only held her and crooned in her ear until they both fell into a fitful sleep.


	19. Chapter 19

It was dark when Annika awoke. She started at the sound of pounding against the door and Garrus pulled her closer to his chest reflexively. "Easy, Anni."

Memories from the prior night trickled back slowly prompted by the soreness of her limbs. Garrus stroked her cheek, "you're safe." She relaxed and took a deep breath. 

The first time he had held her like this, she had been terrified he was simply waiting to inflict some new pain upon her. Now she took comfort on it. His plates felt cool against the skin of her back. The medigel had done its work and beyond the soreness and a bit of swelling she felt fine. 

The pounding at the door continued and Garrus grunted and stretched. "I'll go check on it."

She caught his arm as he stood up. He laughed and touched her cheek. "I doubt the batarians would knock." 

Annika conceded the point and let go. He leaned down, mandible fluttering lightly against her forehead. "I'll be back." Despite his words of reassurance he grabbed the pistol sitting on the side table as he left the room. 

Annika sat on the side of the bed. She felt sore and her muscles ached when she pulled a pair of sweatpants and t-shirt on. She walked to the restroom and looked in the mirror. Her face was swollen. She ran a glass of water for herself from the faucet and thought about sex with Garrus. It had felt good. Right. But strange and different at the same time.

She liked him? Loved him? 

It was terrifying. There was a reason she hadn't allowed herself to feel as a slave. There was a reason she had forced herself to be insensitive- to feel nothing. She might not a be a slave anymore, but the urge to protect herself was still there. Garrus broke her rules; he always had. The idea that she was headed for a world of hurt hung in the back of her mind. She forced herself to push it aside. The damage was done, and there was nothing she could change about it now.

Annika could hear soft voices from the living room. Delanus. She strained to listen in.

"You get implicated, your reputation- the whole damn investigation- gets thrown in the dump. Saren walks, and neither of us want that." 

"I won't let her take the fall. He was a damned slaver."

"Get the hell out, and do it fast. I can take care of the fallout."

Annika shut her eyes and took a deep breath. She could guess the what they were talking about. It wasn't something she particularly wanted to think about. She entered the living area anyways and the two turians looked up. 

"What's wrong?" Her voice felt raw from screaming and crying last night. 

Delanus let out a breath, "damn if he didn't get you good." 

Annika touched the bruise on her eye gingerly. She glanced between the two Turians. "What happened?" She asked again. 

Garrus sighed and nodded at the older officer and Anni felt an old surge of frustration. If she was well enough to stab a batarian in the gut she was well enough to handle the consequences. She didn't need his permission. 

"It was one of the batarian ambassador's assistants." 

"Oh." It felt like a death sentence. "Are you here to arrest me?" 

Delanus laughed. "Not a goddamn chance. I'm here to tell you to get the hell out before this goes public and someone has to." 

"I'm going to take the fall." Garrus's face was like stone. "You aren't going anywhere."

"That's not going to happen," Annika said. She narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm the one who killed him."

"If I had kept a better eye on things, it might not have happened."

When Delanus spoke next exasperation thrummed in his vocal chords, "if you both leave now there won't be a problem, but if you stand here bickering-"

"I can't leave." Garrus stubbornly stuck to his argument. 

"Then at least one of you will go to jail."

Garrus growled in frustration. Delanus kept on in a maddeningly even tone of voice. "The council will give you up. It's your word against theirs and if you're right, there was a witness."

"You can't just leave your job," Annika protested. 

Silence fell over the small living room. "Where would we go?" She asked.

Delanus's look was almost embarrassed. "You would have the best chance on Omega. Galactic law can't follow you there."

Annika shook her head, "no, I won't go back there." She had spent most of her life as a slave on that rock and she didn't intend to go back. The two Turians both gave her a look of sympathy. 

"I know how you feel, Anni-" 

"No," she interrupted Garrus. "I don't think you do."

"Wherever you go," Delanus put in, "it needs to be out of council space. On Omega you might get chased down by a few independent mercs, but here you'll have the entire hegemony on your ass."

"But there are a million slavers, just like the one who found me last night. There are no laws against it on Omega."

Garrus tried to touch her and she pulled away shaking him off, "you can't possibly think this is a good idea," She appealed to him. "What about your job? You have to work and, and-" 

Delanus winced, "look, why don't I give you guys a few minutes, but that's all you have, you need to get out before they lock down your credit chits and travel ID's." 

"Beers in the fridge," Garrus called over his shoulder before turning back to her. "Anni, he's right."

Anni felt a dull sense of dread start to weigh down her limbs. "Garrus you don't understand how bad Omega is. You think that the citadel is corrupted? Omega's a million times worse."

Garrus sighed. "I know it's bad, but it's a good place to hide out. Just for a little while. Once things have blown over here maybe we can go back to council space." He smiled. "We could even visit earth, if you wanted." 

He was trying to distract her, but she wasn't going to let it work. Annika didn't feel any particular attachment towards the home planet of her species. Garrus had been suggesting they to there for a few months. She couldn't say she wanted to, but anything would be better than Omega. "You don't have to leave everything for me."

Garrus brushed his forehead against hers. "I wouldn't dream of letting you go alone."

Annika gave him a small smile. "I still don't think this is a good idea."

"Can you think of it as a temporary solution?"

Annika sighed again and looked away. Garrus caught her chin and turned her back towards him. "Can you trust me one more time? I don't like running either, but we're kind of backed into a corner." 

She caught his hand in hers and intertwined thier fingers. "I trust you." She once again shut down the voice in her mind telling her that trust led only to pain and kissed his cheek. "We should go soon."

Annika nodded and stood. Garrus stood, facing her, "it's not forever. We'll get this figured out."

Something still felt wrong as she headed back to the bedroom to pack a bag. There was a sense of impending doom. Some of her worst memories came from her days on Omega. It was really only a rock, but a rock on which people were pounded until they either were broken, or they fought back. it had ripped her to shreds as a slave. she wondered what it would do to Garrus. Sometimes he scared her. She remembered him shooting into the batarians face, punishing him beyond the grave- batarians believed that the soul escaped through the eyes. It still seemed cruel to her, but she didn't want to talk about it now. It was all too fresh and new. She'd discuss it with him eventually; perhaps when they weren't fleeing the citadel, Annika reminded herself. She needed to focus on packing.

It was strange to look around the apart,ent and think it was the last time she would be here. She remembered the first time she had come through the front door, albeit a bit vaguely- she had been exhausted and terrified at the time. She wondered what would have happened if Garrus had never taken her in or if she had been resumed with the others and sent to a rehab facility. Would she really be better off? The thought of being without Garrus tugged at her heart as she threw clothes into a overnight bag on the bed. The sheets were still rumpled from thier love making. 

When she had first arrived she had believed that nothing about her life would ever change. She would change hands one or two more times at the most and then one of her masters would kill her. She was unhappy, but she had barely realized it. She was being mistreated, but she had been taught to accept it. Annika had learned differently since then, and her life was about to change again. It was a harder life in some ways; she had to make more of her own decisions and decide what she wanted to do. On the other hand, she was happy. She wished she could go back in time and freeze everything before the situation with this batarian ever happened. 

With a sigh Annika zipped up the bag. Garrus was standing in the doorway watching her. She slung the sack over her shoulder and walked over to him. There were no words between them, just a long silence that filled the room. "You ready?" He asked finally, when the silence became too much to bear.

"We should probably leave soon." She said. The cat wou d around her feet and she picked him up. He had healed into a patchwork of scars and fur and was surprisingly sweet for a Tom that had been half feral. He meowed plaintively and Garrus winced. "We won't get him on the transport."

Annika nodded and picked him up. "You think Delanus will take him?" 

It tore at her heart to give him up, but it was important to keep a straight face and a stiff upper lip. When she handed the cat over to the older turian he shook his head and sighed. "Don't know what I'll do with a damn cat." He rolled his eyes, "but you're a hard woman to say no to." 

An hour later they were boarding the transport. Annika wore a hoodie and sunglasses; Garrus was wearing civilian clothes. "It's a long ride. We'll have to make a couple jumps," he explained. "You uh, you feeling ok?"

She knew he was asking about more than just the trip. They hadn't really talked about what had happened between them last night. Anni leaned on his shoulder, "I'm fine." She intertwined thier hands. "Scared, but ok." 

"Scared?" 

"Omega is a rough city. I don't like this. But I'll be ok. I have you."

She could hear the smile in his voice when he spoke next, "you always will."


End file.
